Summer Interlude: Snapshots
by JewWitch
Summary: Little snapshots from the life of Quinn & Rachel after High School; some big moments and some small ones. Follow-up to my last Glee story, "Take Me As I Am."
1. The Daily Show

Hey gleeks,

So I was originally planning to post the final chapter of my current story, Take Me As I Am, before starting this one- but I've had this first chapter ready for a while, and this weekend my family is all in town for my cousin's Bar Mitzvah and everything's so crazy, I won't have time to finish my other chapter for a few days at least. So I thought I might as well start this new story off now. Yay!

The premise is simple: these are, as the title suggests, snapshots from the life of Quinn & Rachel post- high school. They will be in no particular order; it's not really one unified story, it's just a series of little individual moments, some big and important, while others are just little everyday scenes and vignettes. It's definitely taking place in the same world as my other story, so assume everything that's happened in TMAIA has also happened here. Enjoy! :)

**Snapshots: The Daily Show **

**February 2018**

…

"Judy, just leave the dishes! The show's starting!" Michael called from the living room, swirling his glass of Pinot Noir to calm his nervous hands. There was an indistinct call in response, and the three men in the room just looked at each other in mild amusement.

"Tom, go drag your wife out of the kitchen, will you?" Jacob smiled wryly. "If she misses the start of the interview, she'll blame you anyway."

"I'm on it," the bearded man grinned conspiratorially back, rising from his seat on the couch to collect his wife, Judy Fabray-Miller, and bring her back to the living room as Jon Stewart welcomed his audience back after the commercial break.

"Alright, I'm here!" Judy exclaimed excitedly, taking off her apron and tossing it over the back of a chair as she came to sit beside her in-laws on the couch, accepting a glass of wine as her husband sat beside her and kissed her cheek.

...

"Welcome back to the Daily Show!" Jon Stewart said on screen, waving at his studio audience as they cheered. "Joining us tonight is the lovely and talented Oscar nominee, Miss Rachel Berry." The cheering in the audience increased wildly, and Jon Stewart stood up to welcome Rachel as she walked onstage, beaming her biggest gold-star smile and waving at the studio audience. She looked stunning in a simple black dress, cut above the knee, with her dark hair loose and flowing over her shoulders. Jon Stewart shook her hand and kissed her cheek, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh and nod enthusiastically before he showed her to her seat and went back to his own.

"Rachel, it is so great to have you on the show tonight," Jon said with obvious sincerity as the applause finally died down.

"It's great to be here, Jon. I've been watching your show since I was a little kid! You're like my Johnny Carson!" Jon did his usual deadpan WTF look into the camera, raising one eyebrow slightly; the audience started to laugh, and so did Rachel. "I mean, I didn't mean that you're old or anything"—

"No, no, it's all right. I _am_ old. I'm just glad you didn't get buried under the sea of denture cleaner, prune juice and adult diapers we keep stocked in the green room," Jon said dryly, making Rachel blush a little as she laughed and shook her head in embarrassment. "Aww, relax everybody, I'm just loosening her up, okay? I mean, what are you, twenty-one? Everybody over 30 looks old to you, right?"

"I'm twenty-four," Rachel corrected him, and again he looked at the camera in his patented _oh-God-help-me_ expression, getting another laugh from the audience as he looked down at his notes and pretended to organize them.

"Okay, so seriously though. You're twenty-four years old, and America is already madly in love with you. You got a Tony from your first Broadway show, and now you've got an Oscar nomination for your first movie. You're halfway to being the youngest EGOT-holder in history. So far, it seems like your life is pretty much straight out of a David Bowie song." Rachel giggled and shook her head no at the audience as they cheered appreciatively.

"That's very sweet of you to say, Jon, but it's really a lot less glamorous than a Bowie song. I'm just so happy and blessed to be able to do what I love, and really be embraced by the public across so many different mediums. Truthfully, as long as I can keep singing and reaching an audience, that's all that really matters to me."

"But an Oscar would be nice," Jon prompted, with a faux-sheepish shrug of obviously fake indifference.

"Yes," Rachel agreed with a broad smile, "an Oscar would certainly be nice."

"That's all I'm sayin'," the host smirked, and winked at her. "So paint us a picture here, Rachel—how did you get where you are, starring in the most popular musical movie remake since Hairspray? I of course have been following you since you got your start in New York in the Juilliard student theater, but I think most of America was _not _lucky enough to see the musical adaptation of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies."

"Oh my God, you _saw _that?" Rachel giggled and covered her face with her hands, slightly mortified. Jon wiggled his eyebrows. "Okay, yeah, that was actually a lot of fun. But, no, I think I really did have the stars align for me or something; it's still an insane amount of work, but I've had a lot of really serendipitous opportunities in the last few years. I was a freshman at Juilliard when Duncan and Steven approached me about the treatment for Spring Awakening"—

"That's Duncan Sheik and Steven Sater?"

"Yeah, that's right. They'd been working for, geez, something like five years on making this 17th century German play into a rock opera, and basically they had everything in place to start their Broadway pitch except a female lead. They'd seen me in West Side Story, that was the Juilliard Drama department's spring musical that year"—

"I bet you're glad_ they_ didn't see Pride and Prejudice and Zombies," Jon said dryly, and Rachel cracked up again along with the studio audience.

"Yeah, definitely! Anyway, they asked me to come in and read for the part, and I did. So I dropped down to part-time at Juilliard, and then I dropped out all together once the show went into production. And, I mean, for a first experience on Broadway, it was amazing. The cast, they crew, everyone was working so hard—there was no way I could've gotten that Tony on my own."

"And the show won best musical and best score, too, so you know it was one of those zeitgeist group dynamics."

"Oh yeah, absolutely," Rachel nodded happily. "So then we were getting ready to finish the run, this was early last year, and I was just starting to think, like, okay…what am I gonna do now? Do I go back and finish school? Do I just keep auditioning on Broadway? And that's when Ryan Murphy basically showed up at my door and offered me my dream job. So here we are."

"So producer/director Ryan Murphy basically knocks on your door one day and says, 'Hey, what's up, I want to make a film revival of Funny Girl and you're gonna be the next Barbara Streisand.' Was it really just like that?"

"_Yes!_ Well, I mean, I don't want to make it sound too easy. I still had to go to LA and audition, and that's actually a funny story"—

"I heard you crashed your car in the paramount lot."

"Oh my God, I did! It really wasn't my fault, though. But I was so freaked out I was gonna miss the audition, I just abandoned the rental car and literally_ ran_ to the sound stage! I was picking glass out of my hair while I was singing. But I made it. I wasn't going to miss it for anything."

"Well I think America would like to thank you for not taking the time to brush the glass out of your hair." Rachel blushed, and Jon got another laugh from the audience as he gave them his deadpan ironic-serious face. "No, but seriously, the last few months must have been a hell of a ride for you, huh? You go from being a fresh young upstart on Broadway, which is already an incredible accomplishment, but of course you're not getting the same kind of exposure with live theater as you have in the movies"—

"Right, of course. They're incredibly different."

"And then without any film background at all, you get the lead in a major movie musical remake. Really, you became America's sweetheart almost overnight."

"Thank you, Jon, that's very sweet of you to say."

"Actually, I've been asked to deliver a message to you on behalf of America." He rustled under his desk for a moment, pulled out a little black jewelry box, and flipped it open, dropping down on one knee behind his desk. "Will you marry us?" Rachel laughed, blushing bright red.

"Awww! Now this is _definitely_ the best interview I've ever gone on. The one where I get a marriage proposal from the United States. But no, sadly I can't marry America, Jon. I'm already married—actually, we're just about to celebrate our first anniversary." There was a collective _awww _from the audience, as Rachel smiled shyly and held out her hand so they could see her wedding ring.

"D'oh!" Jon groaned, face-palming in mock disappointment. "Yeah, I did surmise that you were married when I saw the ring there. Nice. But I figured I might still have a chance, since your husband doesn't seem to mind you getting a little sugar on the side when you're out on the red carpet." As he spoke, a large photo of Rachel and Quinn on the red carpet from the Funny Girl premiere was thrown up on the screen behind the stage. The photo was a good one, natural and loose, both girls beaming at the camera with their arms around each other. Quinn still had a tendency to lean her forehead serenely against Rachel's whenever they had their picture taken; and Rachel still made sure she was photographed only from her left side.

"So...who's the hottie?" Jon prompted, wiggling his eyebrows. The audience laughed and hooted appreciatively.

"That's my wife, Quinn," Rachel said happily, blushing pleasurably as she tore her eyes away from the photo to look back at her interviewer. He raised his eyebrow, looked out at the audience appreciatively, and then looked back at Rachel, who was laughing at his impressed expression.

"Nice work."

"Thank you," Rachel giggled. "She's pretty awesome. I definitely wouldn't be where I am today without her love and support."

"So you're 24 years old, you've got a hit musical and a hit movie, _and _you're happily married to a Swedish supermodel? Seriously, what kind of vitamins do you take, kid?" Rachel giggled and shook her head while the audience laughed approvingly.

"Haha, no, but she could be, right? No, actually Quinn prefers the view from the other side of the camera—she's a freelance photographer. So it's great, we get to travel together a lot these days."

"Glamorous travel, you say? Obviously, you don't have kids yet."

"No, not yet—I think we need a couple more years to be young and crazy. Though actually, we always said we'd have a kid after I won my first Tony…but we thought that would take a lot longer! So that was one plan that actually did get scrapped."

"What, like in the whole eleven months of your marriage, you had this grand life plan all sewed up?" Jon asked with his trademark dry sarcasm, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh no, it's a _much_ more venerable plan than that. No, I mean, we've been _married _a little less than a year; but we've actually been together since high school."

"Seriously?" Jon raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Yeah!" Rachel nodded proudly.

"So you're not just being trendy now that gay marriage has finally been legalized in New York."

"Haha, no, we were gonna do it last year whether it was legal or not—though I _am_ glad we now have the same legal protections for our family that you have for yours." There was an outburst of applause from the studio audience, and Rachel turned and smiled at them.

"Yeah, good job New York!" Jon yelled, nodding in agreement with the audience's cheers. "That's really great. And may I say—mazel tov. So I guess you're not waiting till after the fame and fortune is secure to come out on the cover of People magazine, huh? Is this a generational thing? I've noticed that the young kids today are a lot less hung up on sexual identity pretty much across the board."

"I don't know if it's a generational thing or not, but for us it was never really a question. I mean, we've been together since the 10th grade; we don't need to keep coming out, over and over again. Why should we? The first time didn't take? We just want to live our lives, the same as everyone else, you know? We don't want our relationship to be a card we play in Entertainment Weekly or anything. It's just- life."

"Okay, you're gonna have to get a _lot_ more conniving and cynical if you're planning on staying in the movie biz," Jon said sarcastically, and Rachel giggled and shook her head at him. "Honestly, though—you've been together since the 10th grade? Like, the whole high school sweethearts thing? I didn't think that _happened _anymore."

"I didn't think so either, 'till it happened to me," Rachel shrugged happily.

"And I heard your high school back in Ohio actually made you both prom queens."

"Yeah, that's true!" Rachel laughed. "Who told you that? Did you interview my parents?"

"Oh, we have our sources," Jon said mysteriously. Then the red carpet photo on the screen was replaced with a blown-up version of an old picture of Quinn and Rachel at prom. The audience roared in approval, while Rachel blushed bright red.

"Oh my _God_, where did you get that?" Rachel laughed, peeking out from behind her hands.

"Little known fact about me," Jon shrugged wryly. "I don't like to brag, but...I'm actually the head of the Jews-who-bagged-a-hot-blonde-shiksa archive. We keep very good records." Rachel just laughed and shook her head. "Just remember," Jon said seriously to the audience, "I'm not _only_ the President of the Jews-who-bagged-a-hot-blonde-shiksa club, but I'm also a client." He winked at the audience, who all clapped appreciatively. "The movie is Funny Girl, it's out in theaters now, and the lovely young star I've had the pleasure of embarrassing tonight is Miss Rachel Berry. Tune in to the Oscars next Sunday night to see her clean house! Thanks for watching the Daily Show!"


	2. People Who Need People

Hey Faberry fans!

Thanks for the great response to the first chapter of this new story; I'm really glad you're all on board. This one's a little on the short side, but what can I say- it's just a little scene. The plus side to the shorter scenes is, of course, that I can write them more frequently. Enjoy! This one is extra-gooey-sweet :)

**Snapshots: People Who Need People**

**December 2015**

…

"Okay, here we go little star…I've got all kinds of goodies here to make you feel better," Quinn hummed soothingly, sitting down on the edge of the bed with the heavily-laden tray she'd just carried in from the kitchen.

"I don't _deserve_ to feel better," Rachel whined from under the blanket, her voice muffled behind the heavy down comforter. "I'm letting all my fans down…ruining their Christmas vacations…I _should_ suffer…" Her croaky voice trailed off into a bout of rattling, congested coughing, and Quinn pulled the blankets down and gently rubbed her girlfriend's shaking back until her wheezy breathing calmed down again.

"Shh, baby, I'm here…I know you feel really awful right now, but I promise, you're gonna be back on that stage getting standing ovations before you know it," Quinn cooed, stroking a sweat-dampened lock of dark hair back from Rachel's face. "And until then, you will _not_ beat yourself up, do you hear me? You haven't missed a single show since the previews, that's over 600 performances. You're allowed to take a few sick days, okay? That's why God invented understudies. Now sit up and take your meds, hmm? Then we'll get you nice and comfy for some quality cuddle time. C'mon…"

Quinn slipped her arm behind Rachel's shoulders and pulled her up into a half-sitting position against the pillows; Rachel grumbled and whined a little, but didn't fight the movement. Whether this was because she actually wanted to let Quinn help her, or simply because she was too weak to resist, the blonde girl wasn't sure; but she figured it didn't really matter at this point. She was _going _to take care of her girlfriend, whether she liked it or not.

"Are you missing class?" Rachel sniffled wearily, rubbing her eyes and blinking woozily. "Don't want you getting behind 'cause of me…you've got finals this week…"

"Shh, I'm not missing anything I can't reschedule. It's all taken care of already, so don't argue with me, okay? If I was the one with pneumonia, you'd cancel the Tonys to stay home with me, and you know it. So just relax, and let me help you…" Quinn's voice was soft and soothing; but Rachel just shook her head weakly, and started to cry.

"It's my fault, I should have listened to you before. You t-told me to take time off when I s-started feeling sick, but I was too stubborn…" Tears streamed down Rachel's fever-flushed cheeks, and her jagged crying brought on another painful, rattling coughing fit, doubling her over in her nest of blankets.

"Breathe, honey," Quinn murmured, bending over to rub Rachel's back until the awful, raspy sound receded. "It's okay Rach, you're gonna be okay…shh, please don't cry…you're just making it worse. I'm right here, starlight. I'm not going anywhere. I've got you...shh…" Quinn helped a breathless Rachel sit back weakly against the pillows after her coughing fit passed, then turned to the heavily laden tray on the bedside table.

"Now, the doctor did say these meds might be a little hard on your tummy, so you need to eat something before we can dope you up. I know you haven't had much of an appetite lately, but you _have_ to eat something or you're just gonna barf it all up anyway. I wasn't sure what you'd go for, so I brought a few options. If you want something cold, we've got some of your favorite coconut-raspberry sorbet from Zabar's; and if you want something hot, I got some udon noodle soup from Zen Palate. And if all else fails, I've got your favorite Irish steel-cut oatmeal with soymilk and honey." Rachel sniffled wearily and rubbed her eyes as Quinn enumerated her culinary options. Then, with a soft sigh of resignation, the dark-haired girl stuck her lower lip out in a cranky pout and pointed to the oatmeal.

"Yay, we have a sale," Quinn teased softly, picking up the gently steaming bowl and propping it on Rachel's stomach. The little diva reluctantly took the spoon, and poked it around the bowl for a minute before taking a bite.

"Aren't you gonna say I told you so?" The sick girl asked quietly, after swallowing a very small spoonful of her oatmeal. "You _did _tell me so. Weeks ago. I'd be..._*sniff!*_...back on stage already if I'd listened to you."

"I'm not gonna say it," Quinn murmured, shaking her head. "Because then you'll think the point was that I was right and you were wrong...and that _isn't_ the point, babe."

"What's the point?" Rachel sighed petulantly, taking another little bite of oatmeal.

"The point is, you've got a raging fever and you can barely breathe, and I just want you to feel better. If you'd let yourself take a break three weeks ago when you just had a cold, you _would_ be better by now. But it's not about missing two weeks on stage instead of a few days, or about me telling you what to do; or even about who was right and who was wrong. It's about knowing when you're pushing yourself too hard, that's all. You've never really had to take a break before; and I think on some level you really believed that if you took a sick day, people would think you were lazy. You're _not_ lazy, Rachel. You're the least lazy person I've ever met. You just need to start treating your body more like you treat mine." Rachel grinned weakly at this pronouncement, and raised one eyebrow in a faint, teasing smirk.

"You want me to spend all day touching myself?" She giggled, with a weak cough.

"No, I'm not talking about sex, silly. I meant...everything else. You treat my body like it's the most precious thing in the world; if I skin my knee, you make sure it's cleaned with the gentlest soap, and disinfected with the best Ph-balanced ointment, and wrapped up in the softest organic bandages. But you treat _your _body like it owes you a debt of indentured servitude." Rachel sighed and looked down at her oatmeal with a weary, shamed expression in her dark eyes.

"I know," she said quietly. "It's just...a lot harder to be nice to me than it is to be nice to you."

"I know, babe," Quinn nodded, stroking her girlfriend's warm cheek. "But I'll help you...and it'll get easier. Just start with baby steps. And finish your oatmeal."

"Yes dear," Rachel grumbled sarcastically; but she had a little smirk at the corner of her mouth. Slowly, she managed to swallow the last of the oatmeal in her bowl; and Quinn smiled and kissed her forehead and doled out her antibiotics, along with the prescription cough syrup with Codeine.

"Knowing what a lightweight you are with painkillers, this stuff should send you to a _verrrry_ happy place in the next fifteen minutes or so," Quinn teased, taking the empty bowl and putting it aside on the bedside table, next to the melted sorbet and the cold soup. "Wanna watch Funny Girl?"

"Uh-uh," Rachel sighed, yawning and rubbing her eyes. "Too tired for TV...just wanna sleep..." She slumped down against the pillows and looked up at Quinn with a heartbreaking, woozy expression in her dark eyes. "Cuddle me?"

"Aww, of course I'll cuddle you, my poor little baby," Quinn cooed, crawling under the covers and snuggling down beside her girlfriend's limp body. Rachel used her last scrap of energy to curl herself up against Quinn, half on top of her, with an arm around her waist and their legs entwined.

"Thas' better," Rachel mumbled, with another soft yawn as Quinn's fingers sifted lightly through her dark hair. "Sing something, Quinnie..." The blonde smiled quietly to herself, thinking immediately of the song she knew Rachel would most like to hear. Of course, anything from Funny Girl would probably do...but Quinn had a feeling that this one in particular would have special meaning right now, even if Rachel was too out of it to fully wrap her mind around it consciously.

People...  
>People who need people<br>Are the luckiest people in the world.  
>There's children needing other children<br>And yet letting our grown up pride  
>Hide all the need inside<br>Acting more like children, than children.

Lovers are very special people  
>They're the luckiest people in the world<br>With one person, one very special person  
>A feeling deep in your soul<br>That said you were half and now you're whole  
>No more hunger and thirst<br>But first be a person who needs people  
>People who need people...<br>Are the luckiest people  
>In the world.<p>

When Quinn finished singing, Rachel's body was limp; her wheezy breathing turned soft and even in sleep. "Sweet dreams, little star," the blonde girl murmured, leaning down to kiss the sleeping girl's forehead. Then she pulled her heavy art history textbook off the bedside table and began quietly studying for the final exams she'd rescheduled.


	3. Sunday Brunch

Hey Gleeks!

By popular demand, here's a chapter with Faberry babies for you. (I was going to get to it eventually anyway; so no big surprise there). I want to really thank you all for the amazing feedback you've been giving so far; it makes me so happy to know you're all digging this! And if you keep letting me know what you want to see, I will do my best to make sure it's incorporated into my Faberry future (assuming it doesn't conflict majorly with anything I've already written). Enjoy!

-JW

**Snapshots: Sunday Brunch**

**Memorial Day Weekend 2024**

…

"Uncle Kurt! Uncle Blaine! Guess what we made? Me and Mommy, we made very-berry pancakes just for you!" Four-year-old Zoe jumped up into Blaine's arms as the two men walked onto the patio of Quinn & Rachel's spacious beach house, where an enormous, festive Sunday brunch was laid out on the table under the shelter of a huge deck umbrella.

"Oof! Look how big you're getting, little Z! Soon we'll have to start calling you _big _Z," Blaine teased, tossing the little girl up high so her curly brown hair bounced around her head, her hazel eyes lighting up with joy as she laughed and wiggled in his arms.

"You just think I'm big 'cause Parker's so very muchly littler," she said knowingly, peering over Blaine's shoulder at the baby asleep in Kurt's arms.

"Maybe you're right, Z. You're pretty smart, huh?" Blaine smiled indulgently, setting the little girl on her feet and tousling her hair.

"Mama says I got Mommy's brains, but I think she's just making a silly joke, 'cause otherwise Mommy wouldn't have any brains left."

"It's just an expression, honey," Quinn said as she carried a heaping bowl of fruit salad out from the kitchen and set it on the already crowded table. "Hi boys, I'm so happy you made it!" Quinn hugged Blaine, then Kurt, kissing the top of the sleeping baby's head. "Oh, that baby smell…it's like a drug, isn't it?"

"Mm. It's probably just nature's way of keeping us from murdering them when they projectile vomit on us at three in the morning for the tenth night in a row," Kurt replied sardonically, but with a telltale smile sneaking onto his fair face.

"Oh, he's just being dramatic as usual," Blaine scoffed, rolling his eyes as he pulled out a deck chair for his husband, who smiled and kissed his cheek before sitting down. "He loves being a daddy."

"I do," Kurt agreed, settling down with his sleeping bundle and accepting a mimosa from Quinn.

"Why it's an expression?" Zoe asked, stealing a strawberry from the top of the fruit salad and skipping around Quinn in circles while she ate it.

"What, honey?" Quinn asked absently, catching the little girl around her middle and planting her in her seat so she wouldn't choke on her strawberry.

"When Mama said I took all your brains, not for a joke."

"Oh. Yeah. She just meant that you got your brains _from_ me, just like we have the same eyes and the same smile. She didn't mean that you actually took anything away from me."

"'Cause I grew inside you, and I'm partly made of you?"

"Right," Quinn nodded with a soft little smile, picking up a napkin to wipe the strawberry juice off her daughter's face and hands. Zoe peered over at baby Parker, raising one eyebrow in quiet curiosity in a perfect reflection of Quinn when she was considering something.

"Did Parker grow in your tummy, Uncle Kurt?"

"Ah, no sweetie. Daddies can't grow a baby in their tummies; only a mommy can do that."

"But Parker doesn't have a mommy," Zoe frowned in confusion. "He has two daddies, just like Mama. So where he came from?" Kurt and Blaine both looked at Quinn apologetically, but Quinn just shrugged, knowing these questions would come up eventually, and happy to get them out of the way early.

"Zoe, remember when we talked about how you were born?"

"Right. You and Mama went to the store and got the special secret ingredient to make me grow inside your tummy, and then I growed and I growed until I was too big to fit inside you anymore, and then I was born!"

"That's right," Quinn smiled indulgently, as her daughter climbed into her lap and began playing absently with the beads on her bracelet. "Well, that special secret ingredient can only come from a man; and he has to mix his secret ingredient with a woman's secret ingredient to make a baby. So when a man and a woman want to make a baby together, they don't have to go to the store; then just get very close, and mix their secret ingredients together. And sometimes, when a man and a woman love each other very, very much, they get so excited that they accidentally mix their secret ingredients too soon, before they're ready to have a baby."

"Why they're not ready?" Zoe asked innocently, not seeing the sad look that passed over her mother's face at the question.

"Well, they might be too young to be mommies and daddies…or they might be very poor, and not have enough money to take care of a baby…or a million other reasons. A baby should always be with a family that wants to have that baby more than anything in the world." Quinn's voice cracked a little, and she sniffed and rubbed her eyes hastily.

"So Parker had a mommy who didn't want him?"

"She just wanted him to have the best family ever, noodle," Kurt jumped in when it looked like Quinn might start crying. "And she was very young and all alone, and didn't have anyone else to help her make a family; so she decided to give him to another family that wanted a baby more than anything in the whole world, because then he'd have everything she couldn't give him. And that's how we got Parker."

"Did Grampa and Poppy get Mama that same way?"

"Pretty much," Quinn nodded, not quite prepared for a conversation about surrogate pregnancy with her four-year-old just yet. Zoe nodded thoughtfully, and popped another strawberry in her mouth.

"I'm glad you and Mama wanted me more than anything. I wouldn't care if you're not ready or too poor. I could sleep on the floor if we runned out of money and I had to sell my bed."

"We're not gonna run out of money, baby," Quinn assured her, wrapping both arms around her little girl and squeezing her tight. "Don't you worry about anything like that. Our family is forever."

"And so is Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine and Parker a forever family."

"You got it, kiddo," Blaine smiled and gave her a wink. Zoe beamed.

"Mommy, I'm hungry. Can we eat our pancakes now?"

"Sure, baby, I know you've been waiting for Mama and your aunties very patiently. Blaine, can you get her started with a pancake? I'm just gonna go call Rach and find out what's taking so long." Blaine nodded agreeably, but before Quinn made it to the cordless phone in the kitchen, she heard the sound of the garage door opening.

"Mama's home!" Zoe exclaimed shrilly, jumping out of her seat and running inside. But it was Santana who appeared first, carrying an overnight bag over her shoulder and grinning at the overjoyed expression on the little girl's face.

"Auntie Santa!" Zoe squealed, lifting up her arms and practically climbing Santana.

"Hey Z, did you miss me?" Santana asked affectionately as she scooped up the four-year-old, carrying her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Zoe howled with laughter and waved to Rachel and Brittany as they came in behind Santana.

"Mama, Auntie B, look at me! I'm upside-down!"

"I swear to God, Santana, if you make her hurl you're cleaning it up," Rachel threatened.

"Geez, relax Thumbelina. I'm just saying hello. She's cool—right, Z?"

"I'm cool," Zoe parroted back, giggling. Then she stretched out her arms over Santana's back to reach for Brittany, who lifted her over Santana's shoulder and pulled her into a tight hug.

"We waited and waited forever for you to get here!" Zoe exclaimed, planting a wet kiss on Brittany's cheek. "I even didn't eat any pancakes without you, only two strawberries."

"Thanks little duck, now we can eat together," Brittany smiled, carrying the little girl on her hip as they abandoned the overnight bags in the hallway, and headed back out towards the patio.

"So what kept you, anyway? Train delayed getting out of the city? I thought all the holiday weekend traffic would've died down by now," Quinn remarked absently, as she lifted Zoe from Brittany's arms and snapped her into her booster seat, cutting up a pancake for her and drizzling some syrup over it before taking her own seat.

"The train was right on time. It was your little Oscar-winning chauffeur who was late," Santana smirked, causing Rachel to scowl and pout across the table.

"It's so nice to be appreciated in my own home. Next time you can call a taxi, or better yet, hitchhike from the station."

"Nah, I like keeping you humble too much, shortcake," Santana winked. Rachel huffed and rolled her eyes, but everyone else smiled at the good-natured teasing.

"All right, everybody shut up and have a mimosa," Quinn smirked, pouring orange juice and champagne into all their glasses from a large pitcher; but she skipped Rachel, pouring her a glass of plain orange juice from the carton instead. Santana raised an eyebrow.

"Skipping brunch cocktails, Berry? I can think of only two good reasons for that. And I'm pretty sure you're not in a 12-step recovery program."

"Just getting over a little stomach bug, that's all," Rachel said casually; but she didn't meet Santana's eyes.

"But orange juice is okay?" Santana asked skeptically.

"Seems to be," Rachel shrugged. "Anyway. Cheers to summer!" They all clinked glasses, and dug into their brunch. Brittany happily took baby Parker from Kurt, and walked him around the deck a few times before putting him down in the playpen set up beside the sliding glass door to the kitchen. They talked about what was new in their lives since they'd last been together; even though they'd all been living in the same city since they left for college together twelve years ago, they'd all grown busier as their careers took off and children came into the picture, and their old weekly dinners and karaoke dates had waned in the last few years. So when Rachel and Quinn bought the beach house and announced that summer was officially New Directions' family time, no one had objected.

"I want to fly my new kite on the beach," Zoe announced as she licked maple syrup off her fingers. "It has all colors together in the tail, and it's bigger than my whole body! Only Mommy said I have to have a grown-up help me, 'cause otherwise kite might pick me up and fly me away across the ocean."

"Auntie B and I will help you fly your kite, Z," Santana smiled indulgently, as she helped herself to another pancake and topped off her mimosa from the pitcher. "But right now we're still eating brunch. In a little while, okay?"

"How many minutes?" Zoe asked, a slight impatient edge to her voice.

"Hmm..." Santana made a big show of looking at her watch and considering.

"Five?" Zoe asked hopefully.

"I think thirty."

_"Thirty minutes!"_ Zoe moaned. "That's too long, Auntie Santa!"

"Okay, twenty minutes," Santana sighed, trying not to smirk at the "compromise" that was actually the time she'd originally intended anyway; she just knew that whatever she said first, Zoe would disagree and propose an insistent counter-offer, in full imitation of Rachel when she didn't get her way.

"'Kay, I'll go set the chicken!" Zoe agreed happily, unsnapping herself from her booster seat and running into the house.

"The chicken?" Santana repeated, raising an eyebrow at Quinn and Rachel.

"We got her this little chicken timer," Rachel chuckled, "So she'd stop bugging us about _has it been ten minutes yet_ whenever we say we'll do something in a certain amount of time. She freaking loves it. I swear she's the most precise four-year-old on the planet."

"Hmm, yeah, can't imagine where she'd get_ that _from," Santana chuckled, looking at Rachel significantly. Rachel raised her eyebrow and opened her mouth to retort; but then she whimpered and pressed a hand over her mouth, and bolted from her seat to run into the house.

"Excuse me, guys," Quinn said apologetically, getting up to follow Rachel into the house. "I guess she's still a little under the weather. Be right back." Brittany, Santana, Kurt and Blaine all raised their eyebrows at each other, but didn't say anything as Quinn rushed past them to follow her wife. A minute later, Zoe came back with her little chicken timer, placed it on the table, and crawled into Brittany's lap.

"Mama's throwing up again," she announced unconcernedly.

"Has Mama been throwing up a lot lately, noodle?" Kurt asked, trying to make the question sound casual so the little girl wouldn't be alarmed.

"All the time," Zoe sighed, swirling her finger around in the leftover syrup on Brittany's plate and licking it. "Mommy says it's just a bug in her tummy, but when I have a bug I feel yucky all day. Mama gets better as soon as she throwed up, and then she's okay again until tomorrow. I think it's a funny bug. I hope it's not forever. I don't want Mama to feel yucky every day." The adults all looked at each other knowingly, and smiled.

"I don't think you have to worry about that, Z," Blaine said with a shake of his head. When Rachel and Quinn came back outside, all eyes were immediately upon them.

"Ladies, do you have something you'd like to share with the group?" Kurt asked pointedly, cocking his head at Rachel. The dark-haired girl scowled at his smug expression, but Quinn beamed and rolled her eyes in an _oh-well_ kind of way.

"I told you keeping it quiet with these guys in the house wouldn't work," Quinn sighed, wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulders and kissing her cheek.

"Three months. I just wanted to wait three months," Rachel moaned, sticking her lower lip out in a classic Berry pout. "Okay, fine, you win- but please don't go telling anyone just yet, okay guys? I really don't want the whole world to know, at least until I start to show."

"Congratulations! " Everyone cried, and Brittany put Zoe down so she could jump up and hug Rachel tightly.

"Why's everyone all happy?" Zoe frowned, looking confused. Rachel and Quinn shared a questioning glance, communicating silently; then Rachel shrugged and Quinn smiled, and they sat back down at the table, Zoe crawling into Rachel's lap and playing with her hair.

"Zoe, remember when we talked about how someday you might be a big sister?"

"Yah," Zoe nodded absently, twirling her sticky fingers around a lock of Rachel's hair.

"Well, get ready, because right after you turn five, you're gonna get a baby sister," Rachel smiled, so focused on her daughter's reaction that she missed the gooey look Quinn was giving her.

"After I turn five?" Zoe whined, looking up despondently. "But that's forever! Why we can't have her now? I'm ready to be the big sister!"

"I know you are, honey, but the baby's not ready to be born yet. Remember we talked about how you grew and grew inside Mommy's tummy, until you were too big to fit anymore?"

"Yah, I just told Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine all about that. So how long the baby grows inside?"

"Nine months all together," Quinn explained, as baby Parker woke up and started to cry in his playpen, and Blaine got up to fetch him. "But it's already been almost two; so seven more."

"That's soooooo long," Zoe sighed dramatically, sticking her lower lip out in a perfect Berry pout. "She's in there now, Mommy?" The little girl pointed to Quinn's stomach.

"Not this time, hon. This baby's growing in Mama's tummy," Quinn explained, and Zoe looked up at Rachel incredulously, then slid off her lap so she could cup her hands directly to Rachel's flat stomach.

"Hello in there baby," she stage-whispered. "Are you awake or asleep? I'm your sister!" Rachel smiled and stroked her daughter's silky hair. "When she can talk back to me?" Zoe frowned.

"Not for a long time after she's born, Zo," Quinn shook her head. Zoe sighed impatiently.

"Well I think this calls for a toast," Kurt said, standing up and pouring out another round of mimosas, and an orange juice for Rachel. "To the little Berry on the way!" They all clinked glasses and sipped their drinks; then the chicken timer rang, and Zoe jumped up, elated.

"Kite! Come on, Auntie Santa!" The little girl grabbed Santana's hand, then Brittany's, leading them happily down the patio steps to the warm sand, where all her beach toys were waiting.


	4. Dorm Days

Hi Gleeks! Thanks as always for the awesome feedback; I love all your ideas! FYI, this chap has a mild angst warning (you knew it was coming eventually, right…?) But as always, happy endings prevail. Enjoy!

-JW

**Snapshots: Dorm Days**

**October 2012**

…

Quinn was exhausted when she came back from her Medieval European Art History midterm, flopping onto her bed with a plaintive sigh and trying not to think of the three other midterms still requiring her attention.

"Ruddy chipper under stress, aren't you pet?" The cheerfully sarcastic voice of her roommate was audible even through the pillow Quinn had just pulled over her head.

"Sod off, Steph," the blonde girl grumbled, making the other girl chuckle from across the small dorm room.

"Ooh, cheeky! Picked up a few proper English phrases, have you? I suppose that means I'm having a bit of an impact, after all."

"You're nothing if not high-impact, Stephanie Yu, and you damn well know it," Quinn smirked wearily, pulling the pillow off her face and stretching out languorously on her bed with a huge yawn. "Ughhh, midterms are making my brain go splat."

"Right, time for a study break, then." The other girl smiled conspiratorially, pulling a bottle and two shot glasses from her top drawer.

"No way, I've got three more midterms this week," Quinn shook her head wearily. "Gotta study…"

"And that is _precisely_ the type of dreary Protestant work ethic that's destroying this country of yours," Stephanie nodded sagely, bouncing onto Quinn's bed, bottle in hand, with an enormous smirk. "You Yanks aren't satisfied you're working hard enough unless you're bloody miserable about it. Come on then, just a few drinks and a game of cards, right? Then you'll be well sorted to take on the rest of those nasty midterms." Stephanie grinned and wiggled her eyebrows, and Quinn sighed, blowing her bangs off her face and rolling her eyes in apparent submission.

"As long as this isn't one of those times when _study break_ is code for _let's throw a party_. I'm so fucking serious, Steph—one hour, then I'm going back into my bubble." Quinn cracked a small grin, and her roommate cheered and bounced onto her bed.

One hour turned into two, and Quinn had to admit that she did feel a hell of a lot more relaxed once she stopped compulsively checking her watch every five minutes and agonizing over the adjustments to her study schedule. Columbia was a _lot_ more challenging than McKinley High, and she'd thought she was being smart when she tried mimicking her girlfriend's study habits during their first semester of college; but she was starting to figure out that drawing up an excruciatingly precise study schedule didn't have the same calming effect on her that it did for Rachel. In fact, it made her want to primal scream and tear all her hair out.

The blonde girl was pleasantly tipsy and absorbed in her game of spit, laughing as she sat cross-legged on her bed across from her roommate, both of them slapping haphazardly at the card pile between them, when a knock on the door drew her attention away.

"Aha!" Stephanie squealed delightedly, taking advantage of Quinn's distraction to smack the card pile first.

"No way! That was _so_ cheating," Quinn shook her head, laughing as she yelled "Come in!" over her shoulder. When she looked up and saw her girlfriend's face peeking through the door, her stomach gave a happy little wiggle; but it twisted a little when the expression of hurt surprise registered on Rachel's face, as she stood in the doorway holding a bunch of daisies tied with a little bow.

"Hey Rach," the blonde girl smiled innocently.

"Well I guess you don't need me to help you through your midterm anxiety fit, after all," Rachel said stiffly, her voice frosty and remote.

"I always need you, baby," Quinn smiled softly and cocked her head to one side, a move that usually made Rachel go all gooey. But right now, it didn't seem to be having the desired effect, as the dark-haired girl just huffed indignantly and threw her flowers down on the floor. "Rachel! What the hell?" Quinn exclaimed indignantly.

"_I'm_ the one who should be saying what the hell," Rachel snapped, crossing her arms and glaring at her girlfriend. "We've barely seen each other in weeks, and you told me you couldn't hang out all weekend because you couldn't afford any distractions from midterms. When exactly did you turn into a liar, Quinn Fabray?"

"Look, mate, it's just a game of cards," Stephanie started to say, but Rachel cut her off with a furious glare.

"I'm not talking to you, Posh Spice," the little diva snapped, and Quinn's face flushed bright pink in embarrassment.

"Right then. I'm going out for a coffee." Stephanie rolled her eyes, getting up off Quinn's bed and grabbing her wallet and coat from her desk. "Call me when this week's episode of _Gossip Girl_ is over, pet." She winked at Quinn, brushing past Rachel on her way out the door.

"Rachel…" Quinn sighed when the door was closed, and she was alone with her furious girlfriend. "That was really rude."

"Oh, well let me just throw myself at her feet in apology," Rachel huffed sarcastically, pacing furiously around the little dorm room as her nervous energy began to spiral into a fever pitch. "Clearly, being polite to the girl who thinks _my_ girlfriend is _her _pet should be my top priority."

"She's British! She calls _everyone_ pet!" Quinn snapped impatiently. "You're acting like a psycho, Rach, and I do _not_ have the available resources to deal with you like this right now. I know your midterms were finished days ago, but I'm still in the middle of mine, and you just pissed all over the only study break I've had in a week. So can we please drop this? I'll give you all the attention you want in another five days, okay?"

"You can't even bother to deny it, can you?" Rachel's angry expression crumpled, and she started to cry. Quinn sighed and closed her eyes wearily. Then she got up off her bed, and took her girlfriend's face gently between her hands, stroking a few tears away with her thumbs.

"I'm _not _messing around with my roommate, Rachel. We're just friends. I would never, ever cheat on you, okay? And you should damn well know it."

"But she's all sexy and exotic," Rachel sniffed, wiping her eyes on her back of her hand. "She's biracial, for God's sake. _And_ she has a fucking British accent! How can I compete with that?"

"Jesus Rachel, are you even listening to me? There is no competition. I only love you. Why does it seem like I have to keep convincing you of that lately? Have you thought at _all _about how it makes me feel to suddenly have you constantly doubting me, for no reason? Because let me tell you— it's fucking shitty, okay?"

"No reason?" Rachel repeated, pulling away and crossing her arms defensively again. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much. I'm pretty sure lying and sneaking around behind my back qualifies as grounds for reasonable doubt, Quinn."

"I wasn't lying, and I wasn't sneaking!" Quinn yelled, feeling her face heat up in time with her pounding heartbeat. "I _did _have this whole weekend blocked off for studying. I just came home in a funk, and Steph convinced me that a little break would help me concentrate in the long run, so I said okay. I don't have to explain or justify myself to you for taking a damn study break in my own dorm room. You're _not _the boss of me, Rachel Berry."

"I never thought I was the boss of you," Rachel replied in a hurt voice, now quivering with suppressed tears. "I was simply under the mistaken impression that you _liked_ spending your free time with me. I guess I'm just not as interesting in New York as I was in Ohio, huh?"

"Oh, _don't_," Quinn shook her head furiously, starting to pace around the room in agitation. "Don't you _dare_ throw yourself a pity party. If either one of us should be feeling insecure about our relationship right now, it's me. You've the freaking flavor of the month in the Juilliard theater department! They drool all over you; they're practically throwing rose petals at your feet, and you lap it all up. Maybe _I _should be jealous, huh?"

"Well why _aren't _you?" Rachel demanded, stamping her foot. "Don't you care?" Quinn just stared at her girlfriend in silent shock, tears pooling in her exhausted hazel eyes. Rachel stared back in hurt defiance, neither of them bothering to wipe away the tears streaming down their flushed cheeks.

"Get out," Quinn whispered, her voice trembling.

"Quinn, please…"

"I can't. Not right now. I can't even look at you." Quinn was staring at the floor, tears streaming down her face and blurring her vision; but she couldn't keep herself from hearing Rachel's broken sob as the dark-haired starlet ran from the room, slamming the heavy oak door behind her.

….

Rachel was a mess at rehearsal that night, and it didn't take much for her new Juilliard theater friends to convince her to come out for a drink and forget her troubles. In good drama department solidarity, they all agreed that Quinn should appreciate her more and have the decency to at least act jealous sometimes (though they hemmed and hawed somewhat over the question of whether Rachel had, in fact, overreacted to begin with). One drink turned into four, and then the dark-haired diva lost count all together. She was content to nurse her wounds indulgently in the company of her new friends, who listened so raptly and treated her so deferentially, and paid her so much more attention than she was used to from her high school friends. She knew she was letting it go to her head a little…but without Quinn's attention focused only on her, she was lonely and insecure, and she let herself wallow.

When her phone vibrated a little after 3am, she jumped on it, even as her friends harangued her to ignore it and let Quinn suffer a little longer. Rachel ignored the clamor around her and dived for the vibrating phone; but it turned out to be an unknown number, so she just let it go to voicemail.

But then it buzzed again less than a minute later; and when she continued to ignore it, it buzzed again. Uneasily, Rachel slipped off her bar stool and answered it, walking out into the relative quiet of the late-night city street to avoid the din inside the bar.

"Hello, who is this?" she demanded sharply, arms wrapped around herself to ward off the cold night air.

"R-rach…? _*Sniff!*"_

"Quinn?" Rachel hunched over with the phone pressed to her ear, a painful jolt shooting straight to her stomach at the broken sound of her girlfriend crying through the phone line. "Why are you calling me from a strange phone? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"I'm…" Quinn's voice dissolved into soft, breathless sobs. Rachel felt her heart rip open and turn itself inside out; but there was nothing she could do but wait for the other girl to calm down enough to get her words out. "I'm in the ER at Columbia-Presbyterian. I'm okay, mostly. I_…*sniff!*…_I just got mugged. I know you're mad at me right now, but…I really need you, starlight…"

"I'm coming," Rachel choked out, gripping the phone so hard her knuckles turned white.

The little diva almost left the bar without even bothering to tell her friends where she was going; only the realization that she needed to go back inside the bar for her wallet so she could pay for a cab made her stop and think and gather her wits. But she still left her jacket sitting on a bar stool, grabbing just her purse and dashing out again with barely a word to her puzzled friends before making a mad dash for Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital. Traffic going uptown was light, considering the late hour; but it still felt far too slow to Rachel, who sat hunched over in the back of the cab with her fingers clamped around her gold star locket—the one Quinn had given her for their first anniversary—and trying to hold in the primal scream that was twisting her insides at the thought of her sweet angel being attacked on the street in the dead of night, all alone and hurt.

She kept replaying her last words to the blonde girl in her head…accusing her of not caring about their relationship…and she hadn't even meant it. She was just furious and wanted to get a reaction, wanted Quinn to be as invested in the fight as she was. Well, she'd certainly gotten her wish now…and she'd do anything if she could just take it back.

When she finally made it to the hospital entrance, the dark-haired girl was in full gold-star-diva-fury mode, tearing around like a maniac until she found the ER waiting room. She harassed the receptionist systematically until she was granted admittance to the labyrinthine row of curtain-partitioned beds behind the swinging ER doors; and finally, there was Quinn, curled up on herself with her face pressed to her knees on a sterile white hospital bed, blood streaked through her mussed blond hair.

"Quinnie?" the dark-haired girl murmured, terrified, as she reached out and touched her girlfriend's blood-spattered hair. The blonde girl lifted her head, and with a spasm of horror Rachel saw a splash of bright red blood drying across her cheek and the side of her neck, streaked with drying tear tracks and a smudge of dirt. But there was no indication of the source, no gouge or tear in her skin; and the little diva's stomach unclenched slightly.

"Rachel," Quinn whimpered, her eyes filling with fresh tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"

"Shh, baby, I'm here," Rachel whispered, climbing onto the stiff hospital bed beside her shaking girlfriend and immediately gathering her into a tight embrace. Quinn collapsed wordlessly against her, and they held each other in fierce silence for a few long moments, punctuated only by the sound of both their quiet sobs. "Where are you hurt, angel?" Rachel finally managed to ask, wiping her eyes and examining Quinn's bloodstains more closely. "Where's all this blood coming from?" Quinn held out her hand in answer, wrapped haphazardly in a bloody roll of gauze.

"I got stabbed with a broken bottle," the blonde girl said hollowly, sounding suddenly emotionless and shell-shocked. "I have to get a Tetanus shot." Rachel took Quinn's damaged hand gently in her own and cradled it, kissing the blood-soaked gauze.

"Oh, baby…" Rachel shook her head, tears spilling unchecked down her cheeks as she cradled Quinn's damaged hand protectively.

"It's not so bad," Quinn sighed woozily, rubbing her bloodshot eyes with her free hand. "We're New Yorkers now; something like this was bound to happen eventually. Could've been a lot worse if I didn't have that pepper spray…you know, the one you make me keep on my keychain…I got him right in the eyes as he was coming at me. Really messed him up. I think he meant to stab me in the neck."

"Oh, Quinn…" Rachel shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her face as she hugged and kissed her shell-shocked girlfriend, rocking her and holding her tight, not even noticing her own violent shivering.

"Why are you so cold?" Quinn mumbled after a minute. "Where's your jacket?" Rachel blinked and looked around herself in surprise, like she'd just woken up from a long nap.

"I dunno. Must've left it at the bar."

"Rachel! It's like fifty degrees outside…"

"Well yeah, I was kind of in a rush to get here," Rachel sniffed, wiping her eyes and shaking off the daze of shock and alcohol. "And _you're_ bleeding all over the ER," She added, rubbing her eyes and glaring around indignantly at the sea of anonymous medical professionals bustling up and down the hall. "What are they waiting for, anyway? Is this a test to see how much blood you can lose before you pass out? _Hello!_ We need a doctor in here! My girlfriend is bleeding!"

"Rach, it's okay," Quinn sniffed, smiling weakly and cocking her head to the side, calming the dark-haired girl instantly with the familiar and loving gesture. "I already got checked by a triage nurse. Nothing's broken, they're just gonna stitch me up and give me a Tetanus booster. I haven't been waiting that long. Please, just stay with me…"

"Of course I'll stay with you, baby," Rachel cooed, cuddling up closer to her exhausted girlfriend and pulling her back into a reclining position against the raised hospital bed. "Close your eyes and rest a little, okay? I'll be right here."

"I can't rest, not yet," Quinn shook her head woozily, rubbing her eyes with her uninjured hand. "I can't stop thinking about what happened today…Rach, I'm so sorry, I was acting like a jerk…"

"No you weren't," Rachel disagreed, her thumb grazing tenderly over the dried blood on Quinn's cheek. "You were just trying to get through your midterms; I was the one acting crazy. You told me what you needed and I wouldn't listen…I pushed you…it was all my fault, I was such a possessive psycho…"

"No, I love it when you're a little possessive—you always make me feel like the most special, important person in the world, and I love that, Rach. It was just a little too much, and bad timing, I guess. You _know_ I'm not cheating on you, right?"

"I know, babe," Rachel hummed, leaning down to give Quinn's injured hand another soft kiss. "I never really thought you were…I just felt all crazy and insecure, like your attention was slipping away, and I had to get it back by any means necessary. If I'd known it would lead to this…well, I would've locked myself in the closet and thrown away the key."

"It's not your fault I got mugged, Rach," Quinn sighed, nuzzling into her girlfriend's silky hair with a soft yawn. "I knew better than to take the subway by myself at this hour, but I was angry and I just wanted to be alone, and I got reckless. This was me being stupid. We just have to get used to how much bigger our world is now…we just can't expect to share everything, the way we did in high school."

"I know, you're right," Rachel agreed quietly, sifting her fingers through Quinn's hair and grazing the back of her neck. That always calmed the blonde girl, and the little starlet wasn't surprised when she heard her girlfriend yawn again. "I promise, from now on I'll give you room to grow; and I'll try not to be so possessive."

"Room for _both_ of us to grow," Quinn countered, and Rachel could hear the heaviness in her voice as the blonde girl started to relax. "And I like when you're a little possessive…" she yawned again, and Rachel gently played with her hair. "Oh, fuck, I have a Biology midterm at 9am…what time is it, Rach?"

"Shh, forget about it honey. We'll talk to your dean in the morning and get you some extensions. I'm sure this qualifies as reasonable extenuating circumstances. I'll take care of everything, okay sunshine? You just relax, now."

"Mmm…'kay," Quinn yawned, nuzzling into Rachel's throat. By the time the doctor arrived to attend to Quinn's injury, the blonde girl was more asleep than awake, and she let Rachel do most of the talking for her. And when the doctor began actually stitching up Quinn's hand, Rachel sang to her and kept her attention away from the blood and the needles until the job was done, with a fresh bandage neatly wrapped around the wound. The dark-haired girl also paid rapt attention to the doctor's instructions for the cleaning and care of the injury, promising to attend to the necessary follow-up appointments with Quinn's campus health center over the next few weeks.

"Ready to go home, angel?" Rachel asked quietly, gently shaking Quinn out of her semi-daze after the doctor announced that they were free to go.

"Mmm…home with you," Quinn murmured, her eyes barely open.

"Okay baby," Rachel nodded happily, not bothering to mention that she had in fact already been assuming that anyway. It didn't matter whose idea it was first, and who was just following along…Rachel didn't care about being in charge anymore. All she cared about was right here beside her, half asleep on her shoulder as they made their way slowly out of the hospital and down to the street to catch a cab. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.


	5. Welcome to the World, Baby Girl

**Snapshots: Welcome to the World, Baby Girl**

**November 2019**

…

"Okay, everything from the hospital is put away, and our parents are all catching the same flight at noon tomorrow," Rachel nodded absently, running her hands over a stack of neatly folded baby blankets sitting on top of the bedroom dresser. "Do you need anything, love? Are you thirsty? Can breastfeeding make you dehydrated…?"

"Rach, I'm fine," Quinn smiled gently, looking up from her baby's small, perfect face to fix her sleepy hazel gaze on her wife, who was pacing around their bedroom in a mild state of agitation. "Come sit with us, starlight. You need to relax just as much as I do." Rachel cocked her head and smirked skeptically. "Well, _almost_ as much," Quinn amended; but all it took was for her free hand to reach out for the little brunette across the room, and Rachel was propelled toward the bed as if by hypnosis.

"She's so perfect," Rachel breathed, curling up beside her wife and gazing in awe at the tiny baby, swaddled in a blanket and sucking contentedly at Quinn's breast. "It's not hurting you, is it?"

"Well, not compared to the pain I was feeling at this time yesterday," Quinn joked; and Rachel raised an eyebrow in obvious concern. "It's…a little uncomfortable," the weary blonde girl admitted, shifting her back against the pillows, and tucking the baby more securely against her chest. "But I'll get used to it. And no doubt my mom will have some embarrassing pointers that will be sure to utterly gross me out tomorrow." Rachel snickered softly, and kissed Quinn's temple. Then she leaned down, and pressed another delicate kiss to her daughter's tiny forehead.

"Hi Zoe," Rachel murmured, settling down against the pillows so she could nuzzle up to Quinn's side, reaching out one hand to lightly stroke the baby's peachfuzz head. "What do you think of the world so far? This is your home, and let me tell you missy, you are one lucky little girl to be growing up in Manhattan. Once you're big enough to look out the window, you'll see a spectacular view of Central Park West and the Natural History Museum from your bedroom. We'll take you there to look at dinosaurs and rocks and outer space when you get bigger. And there are lots of nice kids in this building who can't wait to meet you and play with you…and your grandparents are all on their way here from Ohio to say hello to you, and give you all kinds of gifts that you can throw up on later!"

Quinn laughed sleepily, and tilted her head up; Rachel took the hint and met her halfway in a soft, unhurried kiss. "I love you," the blonde girl whispered, wrapping her free arm around Rachel's hip and pulling her closer with a soft sigh of contentment. "I can't believe we're someone's parents…"

"I know," Rachel agreed, with a poorly suppressed yawn. "Do you feel any more grown up now?"

"Nope," Quinn smiled unconcernedly. "But I do feel less _worried_ about being grown-up enough…does that count?"

"Mm, totally," the dark-haired starlet agreed, fighting to keep her eyes open as she rested her head on Quinn's shoulder, staring at their perfect baby girl and picking up one of her tiny hands as she nursed. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word; Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring…" The baby's sucking grew slower and slower as Rachel sang; after a few minutes, it stopped all together, and little Zoe was fast asleep at Quinn's breast. Rachel sat up and lifted her daughter gently from her wife's arms, making sure the baby was well bundled before placing her in the bassinet beside the bed. Then the dark-haired starlet turned back to her wife, also peacefully asleep with her golden hair splayed out around her on the pillow, and knelt beside her on the bed to button her shirt back up so she wouldn't catch a chill.

"My beautiful girls," Rachel sighed sleepily; then she curled back up against Quinn's side, gently pulling the covers up around them, and drifted off to sleep listening to Quinn's heartbeat under her ear and the baby's tiny, snorty breathing sounds.

…

It was twilight when Rachel opened her eyes again. Quinn was still asleep, and the room was completely quiet; but some gut sense told the little starlet that her baby was awake. Rubbing her eyes, Rachel crawled out of bed and went around to the bassinet, where sure enough, little Zoe was blinking wide-eyed at the room around her.

"Hi baby," Rachel whispered, scooping up the tiny infant and cradling her gently against her chest. "Shall we let Mommy sleep a little longer? She's had a very long day…" Turning quietly back to Quinn, Rachel tucked the covers more securely around her, making sure there wouldn't be a cold, empty spot where her own body had just been. The blonde girl sighed and twitched her nose adorably, obviously deeply asleep. Rachel beamed at her quietly for a few moments, then padded softly out of the room with the baby tucked securely in her arms.

"So, Zoe, do you want to help me make dinner for Mommy?" Rachel asked conversationally once she was out in the hall, smiling down at her baby's bewildered expression, her tiny forehead wrinkled above her wide hazel eyes as if to say, _what the heck is all this and how did I get here?_

"I know, being born is _very_ hard work. You're still adjusting to the whole, breathing and eating on your own thing," Rachel nodded sagely, flipping on the lights in the kitchen and smoothly buckling the baby into the Fisher-Price Zen Collection infant seat she'd insisted upon ordering, softly padded in browns and light greens with a stuffed dragonfly mobile hanging overhead. "There now, you've got the best seat in the house," Rachel bantered lightly, more than happy to keep up both sides of the conversation for now. "The first thing you're going to need to know about your family, Zoe, is that we are adventurous eaters. I think you're probably going to be one, too, since you made Mommy eat all that spicy Thai food; but just so you know, you won't be getting chicken nuggets and french fries around here."

Rachel opened a cabinet and began pulling down ingredients as she spoke; a box of rice noodles, a jar of peanuts, a shaker of hot chili flakes. Then she went to the refrigerator, and took out a package of tofu, a bottle of lime juice, and a bundle of fresh vegetables. "So we're gonna make some yummy pad thai for Mommy, okay little noodle? I bet you remember what that tastes like, since you made her eat it every day for the last two months." The little starlet kept up a running commentary as she worked, chopping up the tofu and letting it sizzle in the pan while she cut up the vegetables. She was just sliding a pile of broccoli, carrots and bean sprouts into the pan when Zoe made a fussy little whimper, and started to cry.

"Oh, sweetie, what's the matter?" Rachel cooed, quickly turning down the heat on the burner and rushing to the baby seat, unclipping the restraints and lifting the tiny wailing bundle into her arms. "Shh, little one, it's all right…" The dark-haired girl hummed quietly while she checked the diaper, which was dry, and then rocked the baby lightly in her arms for another minute; though she knew it was useless. She couldn't give her daughter what she really wanted right now.

As if on cue, Quinn stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, yawning and rubbing her heavy-lidded eyes. "Here you are, my favorite girls," she murmured, crossing to where Rachel stood rocking the baby, and putting her head down on the shorter girl's shoulder. "Aww, is somebody a little crankypants?"

"I didn't want to wake you," Rachel sighed, handing the squalling infant over to her wife, who was already unbuttoning her shirt. The moment Zoe's tiny mouth latched onto Quinn's breast, she fell silent, back to making contented little sucking noises as her bright hazel eyes relaxed, and her tiny feet stopped kicking.

"It's okay babe, there's no helping it right now." Quinn yawned again, and Rachel pulled out a chair for her so she could sit at the kitchen table while she nursed the baby.

"We need to unpack the breast pump your mom sent," Rachel said absently, adding it to her mental list of things that should have been done before Quinn went into labor, and now must be done immediately. "Then I can help you with some of these feedings."

"Mm, yeah, maybe we can just hold off a couple of weeks on that and see how it goes," Quinn mumbled, and Rachel frowned in confusion.

"Why? Are you conducting an experiment in sadistic sleep deprivation that I don't know about?"

"I just…think we should wait and get into a rhythm first," Quinn shrugged evasively. Rachel raised an eyebrow, and then smirked wickedly.

"_Oh,_ I see. You're afraid of the breast pump."

"I am not!" Quinn huffed indignantly, while Rachel chuckled. "Yeah, just keep laughing there bucko. We'll see how brave you are when it's _your _turn to have a giant suction cup latched onto your boobs." Rachel just smiled stupidly and leaned her hip against Quinn's shoulder, bending over the kiss the top of her head. Then the fire alarm went off.

"Shit!" Rachel squealed, dashing to the stove to take the charred vegetables off the heat and throwing the pan in the sink. Then she ran to the closet and pulled out a broom, waving it in the air in front of the fire alarm; but it didn't seem to be making any difference. Zoe was wailing at the top of her tiny lungs again.

"Just take the battery out!" Quinn yelled over the combined din of the beeping alarm, and the screaming baby. Rachel groaned, and ran back to the closet to get the step stool, so she could climb up to where the fire alarm was mounted above the kitchen doorway. Finally, she opened up the case and yanked the battery out, and the shrill electronic beeping evaporated. Zoe's crying immediately calmed to sniffles, and when Quinn nudged her back toward her snack, she happily latched on again as if nothing had happened.

"Fucking hell," Rachel sighed shakily, as she climbed down the step stool and dropped into a chair beside Quinn at the table. "I'm sorry, sunshine, I was trying to make you dinner…I thought I could at least stir-fry some veggies and watch our daughter at the same time. Apparently I fail at multitasking."

"Aw, baby, it's okay," Quinn giggled, reaching out and stroking back a lock of Rachel's disheveled hair with her free hand. "Let's not be too hard on ourselves right now, okay? This is just day one…we've got the rest of our lives to get used to being parents."

"Mm…well when you say it like that…" Rachel smiled shyly, and leaned in to give Quinn a soft, slow kiss over the baby's head.

"My arm's getting tired," Quinn sighed when they pulled apart. "C'mon, let's go sit in the living room where it's comfy. We can order something for dinner."

They were pouring over their favorite takeout menus, trying to decide between Indian, Mexican and Korean barbeque, when the in-house phone by the front door trilled. Quinn and Rachel looked at each other in mild surprise.

"Our parents aren't coming till tomorrow, right?" Quinn asked anxiously, running a hand through her sleep-mussed hair. "_Please_ tell me our parents aren't coming till tomorrow."

"As far as I know," Rachel nodded uncertainly, getting up to answer the call from the doorman. Quinn could hear the soft sound of her voice from down the hall, but not well enough to make out the words. Then, a minute later, there was the sound of the doorbell, and suddenly there were twice as many voices in the apartment. Quinn hastily grabbed an afghan from the arm of the couch and threw it over herself, covering the baby and her exposed breast. As she was getting settled again, Rachel's dark head popped around the corner from the hall.

"Hey, are you up for a couple of VIP visitors, babe?"

"VIP? What does _that_ mean?" Quinn asked with a confused frown. Before Rachel could answer, Mercedes peeked out from behind her, smiling and bouncing excitedly.

"Oh my God!" Quinn squealed, the enormous grin on her face effectively answering the question.

"Surprise, Mama," Mercedes giggled, crossing the room to sit beside Quinn and give her a gentle one-armed hug.

"Mercedes, what are you doing here? It's so great to see you," Quinn gushed, as Rachel came and sat on her other side, followed closely by Kurt.

"She's staying with me and Blaine for Thanksgiving," Kurt explained with a coy smirk, "But then she called last night and said the airline offered her a free voucher for another flight if she'd let them bump her up to today, because her flight was overbooked. We had no idea the timing would work out so well—we just wanted to surprise you."

"Well, mission accomplished," Quinn smiled dazedly, glancing down to see that the baby had stopped nursing and was dozing lightly in her arms. "Santana's gonna be so pissed you're meeting the baby first."

"You snooze you lose," Mercedes shrugged happily, as Quinn shifted and buttoned her shirt back up before turning to present her precious bundle to her visitors.

"Kurt, Mercedes, I'd like you to meet Zoe Alessandra Berry."

"Hello, gorgeous," Kurt cooed, while Mercedes reached out and stroked the baby's soft cheek.

"I can't believe you guys are moms," Mercedes shook her head in amazement. "She's so tiny and perfect…"

"Do you wanna hold her?" Quinn asked, and Mercedes nodded eagerly. "Okay, here we go baby…say hi to Auntie Mercedes!" Kurt immediately whipped out his iPhone and began snapping pictures, and Quinn stretched out contentedly against the couch, holding out her arms for Rachel, who happily curled up beside her.

"It's okay they're here, right?" Rachel murmured, quietly enough so that only Quinn could hear. "You're not just being polite? I wasn't sure you were ready for visitors…"

"It's fine, Rach. It's wonderful," Quinn assured her, yawning and rubbing her face into her wife's dark hair. "Now I can hold you and not worry about anything."

"Mm, sounds good to me," Rachel agreed, smiling softly. Then the sound of Quinn's rumbling stomach made them both giggle. "All right, time to feed Mommy," the dark-haired girl proclaimed to the room. "Who wants to order some of New York's finest takeout? We're gonna need all our strength to deal with our parents in the morning."


	6. Stargazing

Hey gleeks! Sorry it's been a while since I posted. Hope you're all having an awesome summer so far! In other news, some of you might remember that I slipped in a little throwaway comment in the first of these snapshots about gay marriage being legalized in NY in the year 2017; little did I know that it was actually gonna happen RIGHT NOW! I am prouder than ever of my badass state today. I never thought it was that important of an issue to me personally; of course I wanted equality and civil rights, but I never realized until it happened just how much it does matter to me, to know that some day, if I'm lucky enough to fall in love and make a life with someone, I'll have exactly the same legal rights as every other married person has. So, if you haven't already, have a toast to us New Yorkers tonight- and if you've already had one, have another! ;)

Enjoy the chap

-JW

**Snapshots: Stargazing **

**September 2014**

…

"Rach?" Quinn asked softly, trailing her fingers lightly up and down her girlfriend's arm as they lay on a blanket, gazing up at the stars from their small Manhattan roof deck.

"Mmhmm?" The dark-haired girl murmured softly, sounding half-asleep, which wasn't entirely surprising as it was past three in the morning. She normally wouldn't allow herself to stay up this late anymore, as the demands of being bright-eyed on a Broadway stage six nights a week required her to be vigilant about having a healthy and restful lifestyle; but tonight was a special night. It was Quinn's last night in New York.

"What would you say if…if I said I changed my mind about Paris?" Quinn kept her gaze fixed firmly on the twinkling stars overhead, deliberately not turning to see her girlfriend's face as she asked her question. But she could feel Rachel's eyes on her, as the smaller girl propped herself up on one elbow and stared silently at her for a long, pensive moment.

"I would say…" Rachel began slowly and deliberately, rolling onto her side to face Quinn and reaching one hand out to lightly rub her girlfriend's stomach, "that you don't have to do anything you don't want to, Quinn. But I'd also say, don't chicken out on something you want just because you're worried about _me_."

"I'm not _worried_ about you," Quinn huffed, rolling onto her side to face her girlfriend and propping her chin in her hand, too, an anxious, tense expression in her sparkling hazel eyes. "It just doesn't feel right. When we first talked about going abroad, we were _both_ gonna be in Europe for a year. I mean, I know we still wouldn't see each other very often, but if you were in Rome and I was in Paris, we'd only be a 2-hour plane ride apart. That's like from here to Ohio, you know? We could've visited each other, and taken the overnight train, and I thought it would be so romantic. But now…"

"We _will _visit each other, baby," Rachel said firmly, squeezing Quinn's hand and lacing their fingers together. "Maybe not quite as often, but we'll skype and we'll email and we'll have so many adventures to tell each other about. You'll be so wrapped up in the fairy tale Paris art world, you'll barely even notice I'm not there." Rachel said the last part a little impishly, with a small smile of encouragement; but Quinn's lip began to tremble, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Don't you want me to stay, Rach?"

"Oh, baby," Rachel sighed, wrapping her arms tightly around her girlfriend's body as the blonde girl burst into tears. "Shh, don't be scared love…I'm gonna miss you too, so fucking much. Of _course_ the selfish part of me wants you to stay. But the bigger, smarter part of me knows that our relationship can survive this…and I _want _you to have your own adventures, and every possible opportunity to grow and learn and experience the world. Just like I know if I'd been offered a gig at the Paris Opera House instead of on Broadway, you'd want _me_ to go, even if you had to stay here to finish school. Right?"

"Don't do that, dammit," Quinn sniffled softly, pulling back and wiping her eyes roughly on her sleeve.

"Do what?" Rachel asked, lightly kneading the back of Quinn's neck, trying to soothe the tense muscles under her skin.

"Be all _logical_," Quinn wailed, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks. "I know you, Rachel—when you really want something, you _stop_ trying to be logical. If you were feeling as bad as I am right now about being apart for a year, you w-wouldn't be reasoning with me like this…" The blonde girl trailed off into a flood of uncontrolled sobbing, and Rachel just held her tightly, rocking her and murmuring soft words of love in her ear.

"It's okay to be scared, Quinn," Rachel murmured, and when they pulled apart again, the dark-haired girl had tears streaming down her face, too. "Being brave doesn't mean you're not scared. It means you don't let that feeling control you. And you, Quinn Cordelia Fabray, are the bravest person I've ever known." Quinn sniffled, smiling weakly as Rachel reached out and gently wiped the tears from her face. "And you're wrong about the limits of my logic, by the way."

"What?" Quinn asked absently, rubbing her eyes as her tears and exhaustion began to get the better of her.

"When you said I'm only logical until I really want something. That used to be true…but it's not true now. Not when it comes to you and me, anyway. Remember when we went to Rosh Hashana services at Columbia last year, and the rabbi gave that sermon about the animal impulse and the Godly impulse?"

"Um, yeah," Quinn sighed, lying back down on the blanket and pulling Rachel down with her, silently asking for a little more cuddling and comfort. The dark-haired girl went willingly, curling up in her girlfriend's warm arms until they were comfortably entwined on the blanket.

"Well, I really believe in that—the idea that we're not made up of a good side and an evil side, doomed to struggle inside us forever; but that we have animal impulses, that reflect our primal, immediate desires, and Godly impulses, that reflect our higher selves, and what we want to do and be in the world in the big picture," Rachel explained quietly, threading her fingers lightly through Quinn's disheveled blonde hair as she spoke. "They're _not_ just good and evil. If they were, they'd stay in conflict forever, or until one wiped out the other completely. But the rabbis say that the study of Torah can actually _elevate_ the animal side, so it can see past its immediate, primal desires for comfort and safety, and start to want the same things as your higher, Godly self. I don't know, maybe that _is_ what really religious people get from studying the Bible, but for me…I get that from you, Quinn."

"Rachel, it's like three in the morning," Quinn groaned, pressing her face into her girlfriend's throat with a sigh of exhaustion. "What are you trying to say? No more rabbinic riddles." Rachel gently wrapped her fingers around the back of Quinn's neck, forcing her to look up and make eye contact.

"I'm saying you elevate me, Quinn. You make me the best possible version of myself. And that elevated, evolved person inside me just _refuses_ to let my animal desire for you to win over my higher self's desire for you to live out your own dreams, even if that takes you away from me for a little while. Do you understand, angel?" Rachel stroked Quinn's cheek. The blonde girl blinked drowsily, her face unreadable for a moment; then she smiled sadly, and leaned in to press a soft, sleepy, achingly tender kiss to her girlfriend's warm lips. Rachel returned the kiss, both of them pouring all of their love and devotion into what they could never express in words.

"Tell me more about your animal desire for me," Quinn joked softly as they pulled apart, and Rachel giggled sleepily.

"Funny you should ask…there was one more thing I wanted to do tonight, before you go. That is, if you're still leaving in the morning?"

"Yes," Quinn sighed; but it was a different sigh than before, a freeing, excited, stepping-over-the-brink-to-adventure kind of sigh, and Rachel beamed at her.

"Good. Well, um, I know we already talked about how we didn't want to break up while we're apart, and how we could beat the odds and make our relationship survive the distance even though everyone we know who did a year abroad ended up breaking up with their significant others anyway."

"Rachel, breathe," Quinn giggled softly, stroking a strand of dark hair back from her girlfriend's anxious face. "I'm not gonna leave you for some Parisian vixen, if that's what you're getting at."

"I know that, babe. That wasn't quite my point." Rachel took a deep breath, and blurted—"I don't want to be your girlfriend anymore." Quinn's face went completely blank, one eyebrow going up in confused disbelief.

"What?"

"No, I meant—I didn't mean—fuck!" Rachel groaned, sitting up and thrusting a hand in her pocket, pulling out a little black jewelry box. Quinn's jaw dropped. "I don't want to be your girlfriend anymore…" Rachel repeated softly, flipping the lid open to reveal a small, glinting diamond ring nestled inside. "I want to be your fiancée."

"Rachel," Quinn gasped, sitting up in a daze with her eyes as wide as a cartoon character's. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Marry me, Quinn. Go to Paris wearing my engagement ring. Then come back to me…graduate from college, of course…and marry me."

"This isn't a dream, is it?" Quinn asked weakly, staring dazedly at the shiny ring. "I drank too much champagne at my bon voyage party and fell asleep packing, didn't I? And now my subconscious is just fucking with me because that's what happens when you drink champagne before bed, and"—before Quinn could get into stride with her rant, Rachel grabbed her arm and pinched her, hard. "Ouch!" Quinn squealed, jerking her arm back indignantly.

"You're not dreaming, Quinn. Your loving and devoted girlfriend of nearly five years is asking for your hand in marriage before sending you off to frolic in a foreign country. And she's sitting here very patiently waiting for your answer, even though studies have shown that if the person being proposed to doesn't answer right way, there's a 95% chance the answer will be no, and"—this time, it was Quinn who cut off Rachel's rant; but she did it in a far more pleasurable way, with a kiss instead of a pinch.

"Yes," she breathed into Rachel's mouth, both arms wrapped around her neck. "Yes, yes, yes, yessss…"

"Say it again," Rachel laughed, wrapping her legs around Quinn's hips and kissing her with everything she had.

"Yes!" Quinn yelled, laughing as her shriek echoed off, into the twinkling stars over the inky Manhattan skyline. They didn't end up getting any sleep that night; but they managed to keep their goofy smiles all through the early morning trip to the airport, and even through their final goodbyes at the security checkpoint. Rachel walked away backwards, too busy beaming at Quinn to notice all the early-morning travelers she was bumping into; and Quinn giggled and waved and blew her kisses to her until the dark-haired girl turned the corner and disappeared. When Rachel got back to the empty apartment, and the emotional impact of saying goodbye to her girlfriend—no, her fiancée—finally hit her, she'd barely begun to cry when the buzzer rang, and a delivery boy stood at her door with a breathtaking bouquet of red roses, white calla lilies, and dazzling pink stargazer lilies.

"Delivery for Rachel Berry," the young man said pleasantly, thrusting his clipboard at her to sign. Rachel stared dazedly for a moment, still in shock—it had been an awfully long night, and she still hadn't slept, and she only had a few hours before she had to start getting ready for the evening performance of the Broadway show that was launching her to stardom. "Um, is this apartment 4L? Are you Rachel Berry? Sorry, this is my first day on deliveries, I thought I had the right door…"

"No—yes, I mean—sorry. You got the right door," Rachel nodded, her expression still blank and slightly shell-shocked as she grabbed the clipboard and hastily scribbled her signature. When had Quinn done this? From the gate? It gave Rachel a rush of warmth to imagine it; Quinn knew she'd be feeling sad when she got home to an empty apartment, and after all, the blonde girl did enjoy having the last word when it came to surprise gifts. A huge, beaming grin spread slowly across the tired starlet's face as she took the overflowing bouquet in her arms.

"Hey, thanks," the boy exclaimed happily when she pressed a $20 tip into his hand. "You have a great day, Miss Berry."

"Oh, I absolutely will," Rachel nodded absently, breathing in the fragrant scent of the flowers as her eyes found the little card poking out from the bouquet: _Rachel— it will always be yes. Keep your star shining bright and I'll find you every night. XOXO, Q_


	7. Zoe's 5th Birthday

Hello out there in fanfic land, dear gleeks! Thanks for all your great reviews and feedback, they make me very happy indeed. Rest assured that all the things you've asked to see are in the works…we still have 2 more months of summer to play with! Hope you all had an awesome 4th of July weekend. It's hot and steamy here in NYC, but I wouldn't trade it for anything! Enjoy the chap :)

-JW

**Snapshots: Zoe's 5****th**** Birthday**

**November 2024**

….

"There's my birthday girl," Rachel beamed, waving when she saw Zoe coming out the front door of her cheerful Tribeca preschool along with the rest of her class. The little girl grinned and ran to her, holding onto the shiny homemade crown on her head with one hand.

"Look what everybody made for me!" she squealed, pointing to the adorable sequin-covered crown with the enormous, star-studded "5" in the center. "It was our arts and crafts project today, only I couldn't wear it till now 'cause the glue was still all gooey. Isn't it pretty, Mama?"

"It's beautiful, just like you," Rachel agreed sweetly, leaning over her 7-months-pregnant belly to give her little girl a birthday kiss. "Do you have everything, sweetie? We have to get home quick and get you in the tub before we go out for your birthday dinner."

"Who's coming? Grampa and Poppy and Grandma and Papa Tom?" Zoe asked, reaching up to take Rachel's hand as they walked to the corner to hail a cab.

"Yes, all your grandparents are here, they're checking into the hotel right now. And they're gonna stay the whole weekend, too."

"And come to my party on Saturday?"

"Yes, baby, everyone will be at your party. But tonight is the special family dinner at Gobo for just us."

"Will Uncle Kurt and Uncle Blaine and Parker and Auntie B and Auntie Santa all be there too? They're not _really_ part of our family, we just pretend."

"You're right, we do like to pretend that," Rachel smiled, as a bright yellow taxi pulled up to the corner and the two of them climbed in. "But yes, they're all coming. Are you happy, birthday girl?"

"Yeah! An' I get to order anything I want 'cause it's my birthdaaaay!" Zoe sang happily, bouncing excitedly in her seat. As soon as the cab pulled up to their building, Zoe bounded out of her seat, pulling Rachel impatiently by the hand. "Come on Mama, hurry up! We have to get ready!"

"Take it easy, kiddo. Your sister's slowing me down a little these days," Rachel joked, but Zoe immediately stopped in her tracks and wrapped her arms around Rachel's round stomach, giving it a kiss through her jacket.

"Sorry baby. You're coming to my birthday dinner too, even though you won't know it. You don't get to order your own food though, you have to eat whatever Mama eats. I'll make sure she gets some Yucca fries, okay? They're the yummiest!"

Rachel laughed and ruffled her daughter's silky auburn hair. "Do you want to see the DVD of the baby that Mommy and I got from the doctor today?" Zoe's hazel eyes widened comically.

"How can she make a movie when she's still inside you?"

"It's called an ultrasound," Rachel explained patiently, with a little nod to the doorman as they made their way in from the cold street to the warmth of the lobby. "It's not a real movie, sweetie, it's just a black and white picture, but you can see her heart beating and her hands and feet moving a little."

"Cool," Zoe grinned enthusiastically. "I wanna see!"

The little girl danced around the elevator singing a made-up song about her birthday as they made their way up to the penthouse, hollering for Quinn the moment they got through the door. "Mommy! There's a movie of the baby in Mama's tummy an' we're gonna watch it!"

"Well hello to you too, miss five-year-old girl," Quinn smiled as she came out of the bathroom, dressed in a soft grey fleece bathrobe and toweling off her hair. "I'm glad you're excited to see the pictures of your little sister, but we don't want to be late for dinner and make everyone wait for us. How about if you get in the bath first, and then we'll watch the DVD? That way we know we won't run out of time."

_"Nooooo_, movie now," Zoe whined, pouting and crossing her arms with a dramatic stamp of her foot. "It's my birthday and I'm the boss. Mama said." Quinn raised an eyebrow at Rachel, who grinned and shrugged sheepishly.

"Mama said, huh?" Quinn teased gently, scooping the child up and kissing her stomach until she squealed with laughter.

"It's true, I do recall saying that," Rachel bantered back with a playful shrug. "I mean, if you don't get to call the shots on your own birthday, then when?"

"Yeah, when?" Zoe giggled deliriously, hanging upside-down with her legs wrapped around Quinn's waist.

"All right, my girls, let's watch the movie," Quinn agreed wryly, swinging Zoe upright in her arms and setting her on her feet. "But bath time in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"I'll set the chicken!" Zoe squealed happily, running off to the kitchen to get her beloved chicken timer from the stove. As soon as the child was gone from the room, Rachel smirked wickedly and backed Quinn up against the couch, reaching up to run her fingers through her wife's damp hair.

"Well you're all minty-fresh, aren't you?" the little diva growled teasingly, leaning up on her tiptoes to bury her face in Quinn's freshly scrubbed neck.

"Mmm…" Quinn sighed, slipping one hand around Rachel's lower back and rubbing her round belly with the other. "And you just wanna get me all sweaty and gross again, don't you, my hormonal little beast?"

"I haven't heard you complaining," Rachel purred, nibbling on the soft skin over Quinn's thudding pulse point.

"Well yeah, all this sex is wearing me out too much to have any energy left to complain," Quinn giggled, stroking her thumb over Rachel's stomach as she felt the baby kicking enthusiastically against her hand. "There's just one problem, little star. I know you enjoy the possibility of getting caught sometimes, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't include our five-year-old."

"Yeah…that's not really something I want her talking about on a shrink's couch in fifteen years," Rachel sighed, pouting almost as comically as Zoe had a moment ago. "Dammit, hormones, when will you be mollified?"

"Hold on a few more hours, baby…then I'll rock your world till the hormones are flat-out whipped." Quinn slipped a hand up Rachel's neck to play with her hair, giving her a soft, teasing kiss. Rachel sighed happily.

"Ew, no more kissing," Zoe groaned, returning from the kitchen with the little chicken-shaped plastic timer in her hands. "Movie time!" Quinn gave Rachel a little wink, and went to fetch the DVD.

…..

_"That's_ my sister?" Zoe's small eyebrow arched skeptically, in a perfect imitation of Quinn, as she sat between her parents looking up at the large plasma TV screen. "She looks like an alien."

"Well she's not done cooking yet, you know," Quinn said teasingly, with a smirk for Rachel, who just rolled her eyes. "She looks exactly how she's supposed to right now, don't worry."

"What she gonna look like when she's born? Will she still be all squishy an' have a giant head?"

"You were pretty squishy when you were born, too, you know," Quinn snickered, pulling Zoe into her lap and tickling her till the child shrieked with laughter.

"What did I look like when I was born?" Zoe asked when she stopped laughing, stretching out in Quinn's lap and tapping her feet lightly on Rachel's stomach.

"You looked like a tiny pink angel," Rachel replied sweetly, grabbing the little girl's feet and wiggling her toes playfully. Zoe giggled. "Wanna see some pictures?"

"Yah," Zoe nodded, and Rachel started to rise from the couch; but Quinn put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down.

"No, you sit and relax, babe. I'll get it." The blonde scooped her wiggling child from her lap and deposited her on the couch next to Rachel, giving them both a little wink as she went to fetch the photo album from the bedroom. Zoe curled up happily against Rachel's side, patting her stomach and humming quietly.

"Okay, here we go," Quinn announced as she reappeared with the heavy photo album in her arms, settling back down on the couch with her wife and daughter. "That's what you looked like the day you were born, Zo."

"Wow, I was eensy-weensy," the child mused, looking down at the photo of herself asleep in the clear hospital bassinet. Then she laughed, pointing to another picture of Michael and Jacob kissing her on both cheeks while she slept. "Grampa and Poppy are so silly."

"They were so happy when you were born, baby. We thought they were gonna take you back to Ohio with them, they loved you so much," Rachel grinned absently, stroking a lock of wavy hair back from the little girl's cheek.

"I'm glad you didn't let them," Zoe said seriously, peering down at the pictures eagerly, one after another. "Ohio is nice for visiting, but it gets boring. New York is the best place to live."

"Just think how lucky you are to grow up here, Zo," Quinn smiled absently, turning the page in the heavy album so her daughter could see more pictures. "You didn't have to wait until you're grown-up to move here like Mama and I did." Zoe nodded thoughtfully, then pointed to a full-page magazine cover photo showcasing a tiny baby Zoe, curled up peacefully between a serenely smiling Quinn and Rachel.

"That's me too?" the child asked curiously.

"Yep, sure is," Quinn nodded, smiling at the happy memory.

"What it says there?" she pointed to the writing at the top of the page.

"It says _Vanity Fair_. That's the name of the magazine. I bet you didn't know you were a magazine cover model, huh kiddo?"

"Why I was on a magazine cover?" the little girl asked casually, with no more or less urgency than when she asked if she could have a peach instead of an apple at lunchtime.

"Well, the article was really about Mama," Quinn explained, flashing a smile full of love and admiration at the little starlet, whose attention was too focused on her daughter to even notice. "It was right when she won a big award and had a new movie, and a lot of people wanted to know more about her life."

"Like sometimes when the pizza people try to take our picture on the street," Zoe nodded, tracing her finger over the picture of her smiling infant self.

"Paparazzi, honey," Rachel gently corrected. "And yes, everybody was really curious to see you when you were born. But Mommy and I didn't want the whole world butting into our family; so we decided to just do _one_ photo shoot with you in a really nice magazine to show you off to the world. And this was it. Do you think it's a good picture?"

"Yah," Zoe nodded, tracing her fingers over Quinn and Rachel's faces on the page, lingering on their beaming smiles as they both looked down at her tiny baby head. "You look like princesses. Will we do another magazine picture with the new baby after she's born?"

"I don't know, hon. Probably not for a while, at least; I won't have any new movies or plays for the magazine people to write about for at least a year after she's born. But we'll see."

"I won't show her my magazine picture till she has one too," Zoe nodded thoughtfully, flipping the page. "That way she doesn't get jealous."

"That's very thoughtful, sweetie," Quinn smiled softly, leaning down and planting a kiss on the top of the little girl's head. "You're gonna be such an awesome big sister." Zoe beamed at her mother's praise, then leapt up from her seat when the little chicken timer buzzed on the table.

"Bath time now! Then my birthday dinner!"

….

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, they found their dinner guests already seated and chatting happily over cocktails. Quinn's mother and stepfather were showing off pictures of their new lake house, which Rachel's dads had been the very first to visit; and Kurt was patiently feeding mashed bananas to nine-month-old Parker, who was squirming in his highchair. Zoe squealed happily when she saw all her grandparents, and ran to hug them before she'd allow Quinn to strap her into her booster seat at the head of the table.

When the waiter arrived to take their order, the child proudly proclaimed "It's my birthday and I can order whatever I want!" before she'd let him read the specials. And when dessert came, Brittany captured a perfect candid snapshot of Zoe's delighted face when the waitstaff flocked out of the kitchen carrying a lavishly iced, vegan chocolate and peanut butter birthday cake topped with six sparkling candles.

"One to grow on," Zoe explained importantly to the group before blowing them all out. They lingered over dessert, all the adults sipping glasses of wine (except Rachel, who had sparkling cider) while Zoe joyfully unwrapped her presents at the table. Kurt and Blaine were the first to leave when Parker started to fuss; and by the time the bill was paid and the rest of the group was ready to go, Zoe was fast asleep in Quinn's lap.

"I never thought five years could go by so fast," Rachel murmured sleepily in the back of the cab, yawning and cuddling up to her wife and sleeping child. "It seems like we just brought her home from the hospital last week."

"Mmm, yeah," Quinn agreed, sounding almost as worn out as Rachel as she leaned back in her seat, holding the sleeping child close. "Sometimes I try to imagine her as a teenager, and it's like…I just can't. My brain refuses to acknowledge that she's actually gonna grow up someday." Rachel chuckled sleepily.

"Well, someday it'll happen…but that day's not today. Plenty of time to enjoy her before she starts playing angsty emo music in her room and rolling her eyes at everything we say."

"Oh, God, no," Quinn snickered softly. Then she took one hand off her sleeping child's back, and gently rubbed Rachel's round tummy. "And how's Baby Berry doing tonight, hmmm?"

"Happy as a clam," Rachel smiled, putting her hand over Quinn's and bringing it up to her face, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "Though I've never really understood that saying—what particular claim do clams have on happiness? Do they even have the capacity for higher cognitive function? I mean, what would make a clam _un_happy? Besides being in close proximity to a fryalator." Quinn giggled, and Zoe gave a little start and opened her eyes a crack, obviously not really awake.

"Happy birthday…here's your spaghetti cake," the little girl mumbled groggily, then closed her eyes again and dropped back to sleep. Quinn and Rachel just looked at each other, biting back more giggles, and watched their little one sleep.

"Happy birthday, baby girl," Quinn whispered.

"And many, many more," Rachel added softly, kissing a smudge of chocolate off her daughter's warm cheek as the cab pulled up in front of their building, and the doorman stood waiting to welcome them home.


	8. There's an app for THAT?

Hi guys! Thanks as always for the great feedback (though there were a lot fewer reviews than usual this week—I have to assume that's just because a lot of people are away at camp, summer vacations, etc). And let me just say, since a lot of you have asked about this: yes, you will absolutely get to see the birth of Baby Berry! I'm really enjoying this non-linear approach to the snapshots, where you get a picture of Quinn & Rachel's life as a whole rather than a linear story; but rest assured, the new little Berry is definitely coming soon.

For now, enjoy this update—and just to warn you, **this chapter is rated M!** You knew I was gonna do a naughty snapshot eventually ;)

The song in this chap is "We're in the City" by Saint Etienne; it's from the movie But I'm a Cheerleader, which you should go watch immediately if you haven't seen it! And I also suggest checking out the song on YouTube if you haven't heard it before, it will really increase your enjoyment of this chap. Enjoy the naughty Faberry fun!

…

**Snapshots: There's an App for THAT?**

**December 2013**

…

Quinn and Rachel were both a little tipsy when they got home from Kurt's Christmas party, the mild alcoholic haze warming them against the snowy New York night. As soon as they got through the door to their small East Village apartment, Quinn pushed Rachel up against the wall and began kissing her urgently, her cold hands slipping inside the smaller girl's coat and pushing it back off her shoulders impatiently.

"Quinn! Your hands are freezing!" Rachel yelped, jerking away from the cold hands and grabbing them in both her own, warming them with her breath.

"Sorry, baby," the blonde girl grinned shyly, sighing happily as Rachel's warm breath brought her numb fingers back to life. "Guess you need to warm me up a little more, huh?" Her smile turned distinctly devilish as she cocked her head to the side, hazel eyes travelling up and down the little diva's body suggestively. Rachel giggled, loving the moments when Quinn forgot to be proper and demure, and just let her libido out to play.

"I would _love_ to warm you up," Rachel growled appreciatively, arching her back against the wall so her body pressed more fully into Quinn's, drawing a soft sigh of pleasure from the blonde girl. "But before I do that, I wanna give you your first Christmas present."

_"Now?"_ Quinn whined, pouting as she played with a lock of Rachel's dark hair. "Can't you wait one more day till we're home with our parents and the tree? I'm kind of more in the mood to unwrap _you_ than a box from Tiffany's right now…"

"Oh, I know baby, and believe me I have no intention of discouraging you. But _this_ present in particular is not appropriate for our parents' eyes, if you get my meaning. It's much more suitable for our current mood, and since you've had a few glasses of champagne, I know you'll be open-minded."

"Whips and chains, huh?" Quinn teased, leaning down to nibble on her girlfriend's smooth throat, slipping one hand, now thoroughly warmed, down the back of Rachel's skirt.

"No, but you've got the…uhhh…the right idea," Rachel sighed, closing her eyes and tilting her head back to give Quinn better access to her sensitive throat. "Fuck, that's awesome baby…"

_"Yeah_ it is," the blonde girl growled, her inhibitions falling away as they always did when Rachel's body responded to her touch. "You feel so good, starlight…" Rachel sighed languidly; then whined and pushed Quinn back.

"Ughh, no, just wait a sex. Sec! I meant sec," Rachel stammered, her bright pink blush making Quinn giggle delightedly. "I'm so glad my libido-induced dyslexia is amusing to you," the smaller girl huffed sarcastically.

"Aww, I'm sorry little star. Let's see my too-naughty-for-the-tree present! I'm totally down. Just, you know, I don't have anything for _you_—all my presents are already shipped ahead to Ohio."

"Oh, that's quite all right, Quinn—this present is really for both of us." Rachel grinned wickedly, wiggled her eyebrows, and bounced off to the bedroom to retrieve the mystery box. Quinn followed her, figuring the bedroom was where she wanted to end up anyway, peeling off her clothes as she went and bouncing energetically onto the bed in her underwear.

"I'm waaaaiting," the blonde girl hummed teasingly, leaning back against the pillows with her arms thrown back over her head, thoroughly enjoying the dark pink flush of arousal that warmed Rachel's face when she turned around, a neatly wrapped, smallish rectangular box in her hands.

"Merry Christmas," the little starlet smiled bashfully, climbing onto the bed and holding out her present to Quinn, who smiled softly, delighted by Rachel's uncharacteristic shyness.

"Let's see what's in here that has the power to make my starlight blush…" Quinn giggled nervously to herself as she tore off the wrapping paper, opening the box to find what looked like a neon pink silicone candle, with just a slight curve on one end. "It's…a vibrator?" she squeaked, her face immediately betraying the mix of embarrassment, curiosity, awkwardness and excitement she was feeling.

"Not_ just_ a vibrator," Rachel shook her head, smirking confidently now that she saw the arousal warming her girlfriend's porcelain face as she gazed down at the curious new toy. "It's a programmable, music-driven vibrator. When I turn on my iPod," she slipped the tiny music player out of her pocket and stuck it into the bedside dock, "it will vibrate in time with the music. Amazing what technology can achieve nowadays, isn't it?"

"Are you serious?" Quinn gaped at the box, eyes wide with wonder; and then she began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Are you laughing at me?" Rachel pouted, a note of real hurt in her voice as her big brown eyes filled up with tears.

"Oh, fuck, no baby," Quinn choked, taking a deep breath to calm her giggles as she put the little box aside and grabbed Rachel's face with both hands. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I laughed. I've just never seen an actual vibrator up close before…and I guess I'm a little nervous…but I'm also a little drunk so my body's all confused, and…" Rachel cut off Quinn's adorable rambling with a kiss, instantly calming them both with the solid, familiar contact. Quinn made quick work of tearing Rachel's clothes off, and Rachel liberated Quinn from her pale lavender lace bra and panties, giving them both free and unfettered access to each other's smooth skin.

"You're excited, aren't you," Rachel murmured huskily against Quinn's throat, nuzzling up to her girlfriend's throbbing pulse point and dragging her fingers teasingly through the warm, slick wetness between her legs. "You can't wait to play, huh?"

"Ohhhh…fuck, Rachel…" Quinn sighed wantonly, thrusting her hips hard against Rachel's hand as her body searched desperately for more pressure, more contact.

"Talk to me, baby," Rachel cooed, pressing her forehead to Quinn's, her slick fingers playing teasingly around Quinn's throbbing clit. "Tell me how turned on you are…tell me how bad you want it."

"I…ughh…please Rach, just fuck me," Quinn whined, laying back against the pillows with her legs wrapped firmly around the smaller girl's hips, pulling her girlfriend down with her. "I want you to drive this time, okay?"

"Sure baby," Rachel smiled wickedly, reaching over and plucking the vibrator from the box on the bedside table, running it teasingly down Quinn's body, from her collarbone, down between her breasts, over her bellybutton, and just lightly grazing over her dripping wet center. Quinn arched her back, moaning and gasping softly as Rachel rubbed the smooth shaft of the toy against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, coating it in Quinn's warm wetness.

"You like that?" Rachel purred, her free hand resting on Quinn's hip, reassuring her girlfriend with little strokes of her thumb.

"Yes," Quinn panted, her voice a harsh whisper.

"I want you to tell me, Quinn…tell me how it feels…tell me what you want…please, baby," Rachel begged, smiling down at the unimaginable beauty that was Quinn Fabray lying naked and prone beneath her. She knew she was asking a lot…even after four years together, the blonde girl still had a hard time talking about sex. She certainly had no problem _doing_ it, and Rachel was incredibly grateful for that, considering the blonde girl's guilt-ridden Catholic childhood. But the little starlet wanted more; she wanted to hear Quinn's voice in the heat of her pleasure, saying out loud how good it felt, how much she loved it, what she wanted next. And maybe now, with an adventurous new toy and a few glasses of champagne thrown into the mix, she'd finally get what she wanted.

"It feels so good, Rach," Quinn groaned, squirming and panting helplessly under the dark-haired girl's strong body and gentle touch. "_You_ feel so good on top of me, I just…uhhh, please, I need more baby…"

"Oh, you're gonna get everything you need, sunshine," Rachel growled happily, leaning down to calm her writhing girlfriend with a deep, urgent kiss, feeling the hot, steady pounding of the blonde girl's heart against her chest. "Now tell me," Rachel whispered lovingly, stroking a lock of sweat-dampened blonde hair back from Quinn's face. "What do you want me to do?"

"I…oh, fuck, Rachel…I want you to put it inside me, please baby, I want it so bad. Turn on the music. Make it move in me. Please make me come before it kills me!" Rachel beamed, feeling the hot flush of arousal bloom from the center of her being, traveling all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. There was nothing, absolutely nothing on this earth, more beautiful than her girlfriend claiming her desire.

"Your wish is my command, my lady," the dark-haired girl purred wantonly, and with a final quick kiss, she leaned back just enough to slip the curved tip of the smooth pink shaft into Quinn's wet opening. She went slow, knowing this was the first time in years that the blonde girl had had anything bigger than a few fingers inside her; but it slipped in easily, Quinn's body was open and accommodating, especially as she groaned and arched her back, leveraging her hips against the pressure coming from Rachel's hand.

"Oh God, that feels so good baby," the blonde girl whimpered, throwing her arms back over her head and grabbing the pillow with both hands, clenching it tightly in her fists. "Keep going, turn it on, please!"

"Okay love, here we go," Rachel murmured, trembling with anticipation as she leaned over to the iPod in the bedside dock, queued up the playlist she'd crafted specially for this moment, and hit play. Instantly, the room filled with the heavy bass rhythm of Saint Etienne's "We're in the City;" at the same time, Quinn's whole body arched off the bed as she let out an unrestrained cry of wild, animal pleasure.

_Baby, you're making me want you_

_And baby, you're making me love you_

_We're in the city, the city_

_Making me want you_

_We're in the city, the city_

_Making me love you, making me care…_

Finally past the point of wanting or needing to talk, Rachel submitted to her own senses, her world whittled down to the space between Quinn's legs. She kept one hand on the end of the pulsing pink toy, gently rotating it around and pushing to find different positions, searching for the elusive g-spot the angled tip of the vibrator was supposed to find. Quinn's shriek of pleasure let her know when she'd found her mark, and Rachel pressed down gently, bringing her other hand in to tease and caress Quinn's clit.

_In the city your footsteps float in the air_

_In the city at night, there's no one else there_

_In the city see all the old street lamps, again_

_In the city they took all the new ones away_

_You wind down a window to let in some light_

_Through the middle of glass and billboards at night_

_And pausing to catch your breath in the rain_

_In the city you're home again, again…_

Under the combined effects of the music throbbing inside and all around her, and Rachel's questing, adoring fingers, Quinn's orgasm ripped through her like a violet earthquake. Rachel rode it out with her, holding on for dear life, until the blonde girl's warm, sweat-slicked body went limp in her arms. With her last shred of mental powers, Rachel had the presence of mind to flip off the vibrator's power switch, and gently slipped it from Quinn's body. The music faded into the background as the dark-haired girl collapsed into her girlfriend's welcoming arms, both of them panting as they basked in the afterglow.

"Holy shit, Rach…I am_ so_ doing that to you as soon as I can move my arms and legs again." Rachel giggled woozily, propping herself up on one elbow to shower her glowing girlfriend with kisses.

"You're so incredibly beautiful, baby…when you let yourself go like that…I think that was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Thank you for letting me take you there."

"It was my pleasure. Literally," Quinn joked weakly, running her fingers absently through Rachel's dark hair.

"_Now_ aren't you glad I didn't give you that present in front our parents?" Rachel teased, pulling the blankets up over their cooling bodies and snuggling down against Quinn's soft skin.

"So very, very glad," Quinn agreed with a soft yawn, pulling Rachel in by the back of her neck for another long, unhurried kiss. "Merry Christmas, little star."

"Merry Christmas, sunshine," Rachel murmured back, delighted when Quinn flipped her over and grinned at her, with a wicked glint in her eye.

"My turn to drive," the blonde girl smirked, turning to the iPod to queue up a new song.

…

_Note: this fun and geeky sex toy that our girls are enjoying is real! I saw it at Babeland, and immediately thought it was perfect for Faberry. If you're interested, you can go to ohmibod (dot) com to read all about it._


	9. Iron Chef: Preschool Edition

Hello my little monsters! Loving your feedback & reviews, keep 'em coming. Here's an update! Enjoy :)

-JW

…**..**

**Snapshots: Iron Chef Preschool Edition**

**February 2028**

…

"Parker, Parker wake up!" Three-year-old Charlotte Berry jumped out of bed and landed on her friend's sleeping bag on the floor, already wide awake and energized despite the fact that the sun had not yet completely risen. "Our first sleepover is half over! Wake up, Parker! We make very-berry pancakes now!" The little boy yawned and sat up drowsily, rubbing his eyes and patting down his rumpled black hair.

"There's no sun, Charlie," Parker whined, blinking his sky-blue eyes open and looking out the window at the pale sliver of grey light peeking over the horizon. "Everybody sleeping."

"Yeah, so we can _surprise_ them!" Charlotte exclaimed, beaming the dazzling gold star smile she'd inherited from Rachel. "Don't you like surprises, Parker? I know how to make _everything,_ I show you. We sneak quiet like a little mouse." Parker giggled sleepily, yawning and stretching with an expression of serious consideration on his small face.

"I'm not 'aspozed to use the stove without my daddies."

"That's okay, me either. We just make the pancake batter all ready, so when Mommy and Mama wake up, they just pour it on the griddle. They be so proud of us."

"'Well…okay," Parker smiled, crawling out of his sleeping bag and bouncing onto the bed with his hyperactive friend. "D'you think we oughta wake Zoe up to help us?"

"No way Jose," Charlotte shook her head vehemently, making her shiny brown hair sweep every which way around her. "Zoe's a crankypants in the morning and she doesn't like being waked up. One time I waked her up to play with me and she yelled and pushed me off the bed, and I screamed until Mommy came in and yelled at both of us that it was too early for fighting. Mommy's a crankypants in the morning too."

"I don't like when people yell," Parker frowned worriedly. "My daddies say if you feel like yelling you should put your face in a pillow to let it out. Then the yell gets out but it doesn't scare everybody, and you feel better."

"Don't worry Parker, I won't yell at _you._ You're my best friend." Charlotte beamed and kissed him on the cheek. Parker grinned shyly and grabbed her hand, and the two of them tiptoed quietly down the carpeted hall toward the kitchen.

…..

In the master bedroom, Rachel was just starting to wake up, the tail end of a _very _pleasant dream warming her tummy and making her reach for Quinn, still fast asleep. It wasn't unusual for Rachel to wake up before the alarm went off, despite the fact that she was the one who kept a much later schedule with her work; she was just a natural morning person, the same as little Charlotte, waking up cheerful and energized most of the time. Quinn, on the other hand, almost never woke before the alarm went off (and if she ever did, it was usually just because she had to pee). Rachel had learned years ago that it was best not to talk to Quinn, or at least not to expect a response, before she'd showered and had a cup of coffee.

Of course, there _was_ one way Rachel had found to guarantee Quinn would wake up in a gold-star-good-mood…and after the sexy dream she'd just had, the little diva could hardly resist curling up against her wife's sleeping body, and slipping a hand up her tank top to graze the underside of her breast.

"Hmmm," Quinn sighed in her sleep, shifting slightly against Rachel's questing fingertips. The little starlet smiled softly, propping her head up in one hand to watch Quinn's face as her body responded automatically to the sensations of being touched and teased by the fingers that knew her so well.

"What are you dreaming about, hmm baby?" Rachel murmured softly, trailing her fingers down Quinn's ribs to her bellybutton, and nuzzling into the soft pulse point in her throat. Quinn sighed more deeply, her back arching unconsciously, as Rachel continued her slow and teasing assault.

"Mm, yeah, Rach…didn't think you could do that underwater…" Quinn mumbled in her sleep, and Rachel chuckled softly.

"Do what, Quinnie?" she murmured, slipping her hand down past the waistband of Quinn's pajama bottoms and teasing her lightly.

"Oh…_that_…watch out for the flying spaghetti monster…" Rachel's giggles erupted in earnest then, but whether it was the noise of her laughter or the activity going on below the sheets that snapped Quinn into wakefulness, neither of them knew or cared. Rachel kept her eyes locked on Quinn's, sleepy hazel blinking into playful, adoring dark chocolate, until Quinn's body seized up and arched off the bed, gasping softly until she fell back limp against the pillows.

"And a good morning to _you_," the drowsy blonde sighed languidly, smiling stupidly as she yawned and rubbed her eyes.

"It is now," Rachel replied cheerfully, rolling on top of Quinn and kissing her lightly on the lips. "Shall we check on the kids and go get some pancakes started? We did promise Charlie a special breakfast in honor of her first sleepover."

"Mmm…few more minutes," Quinn yawned, trailing her fingertips up Rachel's back and playing with her hair. "I think you could wake me up a little more, if you wanted…"

"Hmm, I dunno," Rachel teased, leaning down to nip at the soft skin of Quinn's throat as their pajama-clad legs twined together under the covers. "We wouldn't want to upset the underwater flying spaghetti monster…" Quinn's giggles were drowned out by a high-pitched squeal, accompanied by their bedroom door flying open.

"Eww, are you guys kissing again? Gross!" Eight-year-old Zoe whined, stamping her foot crankily in the doorway.

"Well maybe if you tried knocking before you barged in, we could spare you from the sight," Quinn snapped in annoyance, as Rachel squeaked in alarm and fell off the bed. The dazed look on her face as her tousled head popped back up over the side of the mattress made both of the cranky hazel-eyed girls giggle unwillingly.

"Okay, we're all awake and presentable," Quinn sighed as Rachel stood and slipped a robe over her favorite gold star pajamas. "What is it, honey?"

"You better come see the kitchen, quick," Zoe said, smirking devilishly as her small eyebrow arched in delight. "Just remember, I didn't do it!" Quinn and Rachel looked at each other in alarm, and hurried to follow their older daughter out to the kitchen.

"Surprise!" Charlotte squealed happily, standing on her little wooden stepstool at the kitchen island so she could reach the countertop. Every stationary surface appeared to be covered in flour and some kind of thick batter; it was splattered over the floor, the kitchen table, across the door of the stainless steel refrigerator. Next to Charlotte stood Parker, looking a little less proud and a little more sheepish, not to mention less messy. While Charlie was covered from head to toe in flour, Parker had actually managed to keep himself neat and clean, aside from a light dusting over his dark hair, making him look like a little old man and a preschooler rolled into one.

"We didn't use the stove," the little boy blurted nervously, obviously more in tune with Quinn and Rachel's less than thrilled reactions than Charlotte was.

"Charlie, honey…what are you _doing?_" Rachel groaned, immediately grabbing a handful of paper towels and beginning to dust the thick coating of flour off her little girl.

"I wanted make you surprise breakfast," Charlotte pouted, finally picking up on the unhappy tone in her mama's voice; but she knew she wasn't _really _in trouble, because Mama still called her Charlie and not _Charlotte Adelaide Berry,_ which was her name only when she was naughty. "Mama mad?" Her little lip began to quiver. Rachel groaned and closed her eyes.

"Honey, you know you're not allowed to cook without a grownup," Quinn sighed, scooping the flour-dusted child up while Rachel collected herself, and sitting her on the counter to continue brushing the thick white powder from her hair and clothes. "You could've gotten hurt. And look what a giant mess you made, kiddo."

"But we didn't use the stove!" Charlie exclaimed emphatically, her mood rapidly deteriorating at the light scolding she was getting from her parents. She'd been expecting lavish praise for the surprise she'd prepared for her family, after all. "I w-wanted…s-s-surprise you…" With a little hiccup, the child's face crumpled and she began to wail.

"I'm sorry Auntie Rae," Parker whimpered, running to Rachel's side and hugging her leg, obviously distressed, as Quinn picked Charlotte up from the counter and cuddled her floury body soothingly.

"It's okay sweetie, it wasn't your fault," Rachel sighed, ruffling Parker's dark hair and kissing the top of his head. "We just have to clean this place up now. Can we all do that together, hmm?"

"Not me!" Zoe squealed indignantly from the kitchen table, where she was sitting with her PSP. _"I_ didn't make this mess!"

"Zoe," Quinn said sternly over the head of her crying three-year-old.

"What? It's her mess, she should clean it up! Then she learns her lesson."

"And who will learn the sisters-help-each-other-out lesson, hmm?" Quinn asked pointedly, rubbing Charlotte's back until her sobs quieted to sniffles and hiccups. Zoe pouted and gave her a sardonic eyeroll.

"Okay, how about this," Rachel proposed, scooping up a clingy Parker before he crawled up her arms like a monkey, and addressing him as if the decision was his alone. "Everybody who helps clean up, gets to come to breakfast at City Bakery. Everybody who doesn't want to help can stay home and lick the batter off the floor. Sound good, kiddo?" Parker laughed and nodded happily.

"Oh, all _right,_" Zoe sighed dramatically, slouching off her chair and going to the hall closet to fetch a broom.

"I can have a chocolate croissant?" Charlie sniffled, rubbing her tear-streaked face into Quinn's shoulder.

"Sure, baby," Quinn cooed, kissing the top of her floury head. "And next time you want to make breakfast yourself, what's the first thing you do?"

"Get you or Mama to help," the child said emphatically.

"Good girl," Quinn smiled, wiping the last of her child's tears away before setting her on her feet. While she shepherded the three kids to the hall closet for rags and cleaning supplies, Rachel went to her purse and pulled out her phone, dashing off a quick text to Blaine and Kurt_: our little monsters have destroyed the kitchen, going out 4 breakfast. Meet us at city bakery in an hr? ;)_


	10. And Fababy Makes Four

Hey faberry fans!

Well, you asked for it, you got it- here's the most-requested snapshot of the summer! Hope you're all keeping cool in this crazy heat wave. Enjoy...

-JW

…...

**Snapshots: And Fababy Makes Four**

**January 2025**

…...

"Zoe, what are you doing making a mess in here? I just got everything straightened up!" Rachel snapped irritably at her five-year-old, who looked up innocently from where she stood on a step stool at the changing table, pretending to change her doll's diaper.

"I was just practicing for the new baby," Zoe pouted, sticking her lower lip out and hugging her doll in her arms, rocking it like it was a real baby.

"Well you can practice in your own room, young lady. This is your sister's nursery, not a giant dollhouse for you to play in." Rachel was uncharacteristically sharp with her preschooler, who gave her a hurt look of surprise before running past her, out of the nursery and down the hall. A moment later, Rachel heard the sound of Zoe's door slamming shut. She groaned softly and rubbed her swollen stomach.

"For every day this baby is overdue, I'm racking up about a hundred dollars in future therapy bills for you and Zoe," Rachel whined to Quinn in the kitchen, rubbing at a knot in her lower back. "I'm so sorry for every time I was impatient with you when you were pregnant, Quinnie. I thought you were just being selfish and immature. I realize now that being nine months pregnant is like having your own Jekyll and Hyde show, and you have absolutely no control over the plot."

"Aww, honey," Quinn giggled softly, going over to her cranky, pregnant wife and kissing her forehead, rubbing lightly at the tight muscles in her neck. "It's okay, I know you're totally miserable right now...it's completely normal to be irritable and moody when you have a little watermelon kicking the shit out of you day and night. And this one seems so happy with the accommodations, she doesn't want to turn in her keys!" The smiling blonde rubbed gentle circles around her wife's rounded tummy, cocking her head and smiling her little sideways grin that never failed to draw an answering smile from the dark-haired starlet. But this time, Rachel just whined and dropped her head onto Quinn's shoulder.

"I want her out of me _now_," she groaned miserably. "Do you hear me in there, little diva-in-training? I realize you're invested in making an entrance, but this is _not _the time to be fashionably late," she whined, talking directly to her stomach. "I don't know whether you've noticed, but the accommodations out here are much more spacious than the ones in there. _Please_ just come out already! Why do you want a one-room studio when you could be enjoying a penthouse on Central Park West? _Aghhh!"_

"Why don't you do your prenatal yoga exercises for a while, hmm baby?" Quinn suggested gently, steering Rachel out into the living room and fetching her yoga mat from the corner. "That always relaxes you, and Dr. Narayan did say it might help induce labor at this point."

"You just want me out of your hair," Rachel accused, but her tone had softened to a pouty grumble. "I'm driving you crazy, aren't I?"

"No, baby, you're too adorable to drive me crazy," Quinn assured her, with a gentle kiss to her wife's pouty lips. "I just wanna help you feel a little better, that's all. And while you're feeling better with yoga, I could be in the kitchen making your favorite butternut squash lasagna..."

"Okay," Rachel nodded, immediately perking up. Quinn giggled and gave her one final kiss before turning and going back to the kitchen. With a soft sigh of resignation, Rachel popped in a CD of soft Tibetan music, and began going through the limited number of poses that she could still do in her ninth month of pregnancy.

It _did _start to make her feel better almost immediately. While she was in downward facing dog, a pair of small feet with bright blue toenails crossed her field of vision and stopped in front of her. "Mama?" Zoe's little voice was nervous, as if half-expecting a reprimand; and immediately Rachel felt guilty. "Can me and Appa do yoga with you?"

"Of course baby," Rachel smiled softly as she stood up and stretched, going into the first sun-salutation pose. Zoe beamed and ran to the corner to get her own yoga mat, rolling it out on the floor next to Rachel's. She set her stuffed monster down on one end, and quickly fell into synch beside her mama, stretching her arms up high to meet over her head while one leg flexed forward and the other one pivoted back.

"Hello, sun," the little girl said softly to herself, her face pointed up toward the skylight. Rachel smiled, tilting her own head back as she let out a long, slow breath, feeling her tense muscles finally start to relax. Then a shooting pain ripped from the bottom of her belly down between her legs, and she screamed and staggered back.

"Mama!" Zoe cried in alarm, running to Rachel's side and hugging her hips. "Are you hurted? Did the baby kick you extra-hard?"

"It's okay baby, don't be scared," Rachel panted softly, even as her own heartbeat started to race. "Your sister is just telling me she's ready to be born now. _Quinn!"_ she yelled urgently, one arm cradling her stomach while the other wrapped reassuringly around her child's small shoulders. Quinn came racing in from the kitchen, her hazel eyes wide with panic as she met Rachel's anxious gaze.

"Is it time?" Quinn didn't seem to realize she was still holding half a butternut squash in her hand as she gesticulated wildly to Rachel's stomach. The little starlet just nodded, looking pale and terrified.

"Okay, don't panic. There's no need to panic," Quinn squeaked, her voice suddenly going up an octave as she rushed to help Rachel sit down on the couch. Zoe stayed glued to Rachel's side, looking even more freaked out than Quinn as she sat down beside her mama and gently patted her stomach. "Zoe, run and get your overnight bag from your bedroom, okay baby? You're gonna go spend the night with your aunties, just like we talked about." Zoe looked back and forth from Quinn to Rachel, taking in their anxious expressions and the pain on Rachel's face.

"I wanna stay with you," the little girl said firmly, burying her head against Rachel's hip.

"Baby, you can't stay with us right now," Quinn said gently, sitting down on Zoe's other side and stroking her hair reassuringly. "Remember when we talked about how you'll go and stay with your aunties while the baby is born? We're going to be at the hospital for hours and hours, probably all night, and there won't be anything for you to do there or anyplace to sleep."

"But I'm scared," Zoe whimpered, fat tears welling up in her eyes as she pressed her face into Rachel's stomach. "What if you need me? I can help take care of Mama!"

"Shh, little bug, don't be scared," Rachel murmured, stroking a wavy lock of auburn hair back behind her daughter's ear. "This is exactly what's supposed to happen when a baby is ready to be born. Every mommy in the whole world has gone through this, and with the doctors and nurses to help us, your little sister and I will both be fine, I promise. Can you be our brave big girl, and wait with your aunties like we planned?" Zoe sniffled and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

"'Kay," she nodded reluctantly. Then she jumped off the couch and ran to get her backpack, while Quinn ran to call Brittany and Santana and grab Rachel's overnight bag from the master bedroom. Rachel was left alone on the couch, just for a minute, and began slowly practicing the first phase of her lamaze breathing, one hand gently rubbing her stomach as another spasm of pain hit.

"Here," Zoe said gently when she returned, pushing her stuffed monster- the same one Rachel had given Quinn when she had tonsillitis in 11th grade- into Rachel's arms. "Appa wants to stay with _you_, just for tonight. He'll take real good care of you and the baby, okay Mama?"

"Thank you, sweetheart," Rachel smiled, pulling her little girl into a tight hug. "We'll call you as soon as it's over, I promise."

"Even if I'm sleeping?" Zoe prompted, rehashing the conversation they'd had about a hundred times already.

"Even if you're sleeping," Rachel promised.

"I love you Mama," Zoe beamed, throwing her arms around Rachel's stomach one last time.

"I love you too, munchkin," Rachel murmured, kissing the top of Zoe's head. Then Quinn reappeared with Rachel's overnight bag, still carrying the butternut squash she'd had in her hand when Rachel called her in from the kitchen.

"Okay, my girls, are we all ready? Time to get out of here and have a baby!"

"Why are you holding that squash, Mommy?" Zoe pointed in confusion to Quinn's strange accessory. Quinn looked at her hand as if seeing it for the first time, and groaned in frustration, running to the kitchen to throw it in the fridge.

"And make sure the oven is off!" Rachel hollered after her, a half-smirk on her face as she watched her wife run around in the traditional expectant-father-tizzy.

"Bye baby, I'll see you soon," Zoe whispered loudly to Rachel's stomach, giving it one final kiss. "Try not to kick Mama too much when you're coming out, okay?"

…...

There were some ways in which being a celebrity was a source of stress for any young family; but getting preferential treatment at the best hospital in New York City was not one of them. Rachel and Quinn were whisked straight to a large, private birthing suite without even stopping in the waiting room, and their doctor was there waiting for them as soon as they'd arrived. Rachel knew not to expect the same quick delivery that Quinn had experienced with Beth and Zoe; rapid labor was something that ran in the Fabray family, but from what Rachel knew of her own birth mother, no such luck awaited _her_ genetic line. After two hours of slow breathing, ice chips, and back rubs from Quinn, Rachel was in pretty good spirits. After five hours, she was tired and cranky and snapping at everyone who entered their room. And by half past four in the morning, the little starlet was flat-out sobbing, and begging Quinn to just knock her out until it was over.

"And how are we doing in here?" Dr. Narayan, their obstetrician, asked as she entered the room and looked at the readouts on the various fetal monitors hooked up to Rachel's belly.

"Something's wrong, I know it," Rachel sobbed, as Quinn wiped her face with a cool washcloth in another gentle attempt to soothe her. "Please tell me what's happening, why is it taking so long? Is she stuck or something? Is the cord wrapped around her neck? Do I have to have a c-section?"

"You and your baby are both doing fine, Rachel," The doctor assured her, wheeling up to the end of the hospital bed on a small stool, and planting herself between the exhausted brunette's legs. "You're fully dilated, and I've got good strong vitals here from your little one. In another minute, it's going to be time to push, Rachel. Are we ready to have a baby in here?"

"Oh fuck yes, please just get her out of me," Rachel sobbed, as Quinn grabbed her hand and kissed her sweaty forehead.

"We're almost there, Rach," Quinn whispered in her ear, holding her wife's trembling hand in both her own. "This is the hard part now, okay my love? You just squeeze my hand, and push like you've never pushed before. And then it'll all be over, and we'll have our baby. You can do it, little star..."

Rachel nodded shakily, tears streaming down her flushed face. "Okay, Rachel, when the next contraction hits, I want you to push," the doctor ordered from the foot of the bed. "Nice deep breaths, now."

When the contraction hit, Rachel shrieked like a banshee, her whole body arching off the bed as she gripped Quinn's hand painfully tight. "Aaaaghhh, I can't _do_ this!" she sobbed, looking up at Quinn with her big brown eyes full of agony. "How the fuck did _you_ do this, Quinn? _Twice?"_

"Sshh, I know baby, I know," Quinn cooed, taking a fresh hand towel from the neatly stacked pile beside the bed, and wiping the sweat and tears from Rachel's face. "But you _can_ do it, Rach, you can. It's almost over, I swear..."

"No, I can't, I can't..." Rachel sobbed desperately, another convulsive scream gripping her when the next contraction hit, and the overwhelming urge to push seized her body.

"She's crowning! I can see her head," The doctor said with a smile of encouragement, her gloved hand squeezing Rachel's knee in reassurance. "One more big push, Mama, and you'll have your baby girl. Take a nice, deep breath now."

"Oh God, oh God," Rachel panted, squeezing Quinn's hand with a furious snarl. "I fucking hate you for talking me into this, Quinn!" The blonde woman wisely kept quiet, knowing it would _not _be in her best interest to remind her wife that she had not in fact talked her into anything; that it had been all her idea in the first place. Instead, she just locked her eyes on Rachel's, and took a deep, slow breath. It was all the encouragement Rachel needed, and she mimicked Quinn, breathing slowly and deeply as their fingers laced tightly together, one last time. Then the exhausted starlet closed her eyes, clenched her fists, and screamed at the top of her oscar-winning lungs.

"I've got her!" The doctor exclaimed, as a tiny cry filled the air.

"She's out?" Rachel murmured hoarsely, smiling woozily as her body went blessedly limp. "Is she okay?"

"She's absolutely gorgeous," Dr. Narayan said proudly, quickly wiping the squalling newborn clean of the blood and goo and checking her vitals before snipping the umbilical cord, and wrapping her up in a clean, warm blanket. "Welcome, little one! Do you have a name?" the doctor asked as she gently transferred the baby into Rachel's arms.

"Her name is Charlotte Adelaide Berry, after Quinn's grandmother and my great-grandfather Adlai," Rachel murmured, her soft voice completely star-struck as she looked into her baby's enormous brown eyes for the first time. "Hey there, little Charlie..." Quinn began to cry, sitting down on the edge of the bed and wrapping an arm around Rachel's shoulders, kissing the top of her head before snuggling down to get a good look at her new baby.

"I'll leave you three alone for a few minutes to get acquainted," the doctor said with a smile as she stripped off her gloves. "Congratulations, ladies." As the doctor walked out the door, Rachel yawned hugely, dropping her head against Quinn's shoulder.

"You were amazing, Rachel...I'm so proud of you..." Quinn sighed sleepily, trailing her fingers absently up and down Rachel's arm.

"I hope two kids is enough for you, because I am never, _ever _doing that again," Rachel murmured, blinking her tired eyes rapidly to keep them open.

"Yes dear," Quinn snickered softly, with a yawn of her own.

"Quinn, don't fall asleep...promised we'd call Zoe as soon as it was over."

"Mm. Mm-hmm," Quinn murmured, which was apparently the closest thing to a full sentence that she could manage as she pulled out her cell phone and speed-dialed the Pierce-Lopez residence.

"The next time I do you a favor, Q, how 'bout you don't thank me by calling at five am?" Santana grumbled by way of greeting.

"It's all over, San," Quinn murmured, too blissed out to be bothered by her best friend's groggy sniping. "Charlotte Adelaide Berry is here."

"Aww, chica...congratulations," Santana yawned, and Quinn could hear Santana waking Brittany to share the news in the background. "So you want me to try to wake up the noodle?"

"We promised to call her as soon as it was over," Quinn smiled sleepily, curling up on her side on the edge of the hospital bed, and moving her free hand to stroke the baby's silky head. Rachel was already half asleep.

"Okay dude, I'll try. Let's just hope she doesn't take after you and throw a barbell at my head."

"Oh my God, San, that was _eighth grade_, and you know you deserved it." Santana chuckled as she stumbled down the hall to her guest bedroom, and Quinn could hear her talking quietly to Zoe, urging her awake.

"Mommy?" Zoe's voice was soft and trance-like.

"Hey big sister, are you awake?"

"I was dreaming about Cookie Monster an' Big Bird," the little girl mumbled, which more or less answered Quinn's question.

"Honey, do you remember why I'm calling?"

"I'm a big sister?" Zoe yawned.

"You're a big sister," Quinn confirmed, smiling softly.

"Okay. Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Of course, baby. We'll see you in the morning...sweet dreams, little bug." When she hung up the phone, Quinn realized that Rachel was fast asleep; and she gently took the baby into her own arms, standing up and walking slowly around the room, humming softly. Little Charlotte was looking up at her in utter bewilderment.

"Hey little girl," Quinn murmured, stroking the baby's warm cheek and leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Welcome to the world. I'm your mommy, and that pretty lady sleeping over there is your mama. You've also got a big sister named Zoe who can't wait to meet you, and lots of aunties and uncles and grandparents too. We all love you so much, little one...and we're gonna take care of you, and play with you, and show you so many amazing things..." Quinn felt another huge yawn sneak up on her; though she was exhausted, she just couldn't stand to put her baby down yet, making another round of the room and singing softly to the tiny newborn. When a nurse came to check on the baby a few minutes later, she found all three of them curled up together, fast asleep, the baby nuzzled securely against Rachel's chest with Quinn's arm wrapped protectively over them both.


	11. Trouble at the Tonys

Hey guys!

Sorry for the unusually long wait for this chap; I was on vacation with my little sis, who is 13 and has the energy of three caffeinated Rachel Berrys around the clock, and I barely had a chance to sleep, let alone write! But don't fret, we now return to your regularly scheduled programming. You guys got your tix to the glee 3D movie this weekend or what?

Enjoy,

-JW

…..

**Trouble at the Tonys**

**June 2028**

…...

"You'd better not be splashing the floor in there, little monsters!" Santana called over her shoulder toward the bathroom, as the sound of squealing and splashing wafted down the hall of the Berry family's spacious penthouse apartment.

"The giant octopus is attacking us, Auntie Santa!" Zoe's voice replied, echoed by Charlie's giggling. The tough Latina cracked a reluctant smile as she came into the bathroom doorway and leaned against it, raising an eyebrow at the two sudsy little girls splashing each other delightedly in the tub.

"Oh really?" she said drolly, watching Zoe waving her arms like tentacles over her little sister, who was giggling delightedly.

"Monster gonna get us! Glue his stickers with peanut butter!" Charlie squealed, scooping up a handful of suds and dumping them over Zoe's head.

"Okay, okay, calm down you guys," Santana sighed, kneeling down on the bath mat and putting a hand on each of their soapy shoulders. "You're gonna end up with half the bathwater coming through your downstairs' neighbors ceiling at this rate. Shh, take it easy...time to start relaxing and getting ready for bed now."

"But we don't hafta go to sleep," Zoe reminded her aunt sternly, arching an eyebrow in what Santana affectionately thought of as her _junior HBIC_ face. "We get to stay up an' watch the Tonys with you, and see Mama and Mommy on TV."

"Tony! Mama win!" Charlie trilled, hoisting up her favorite plastic dinosaur like a trophy, and giggling delightedly as it sent a splatter of suds across the bathroom.

"Yes, little monsters, you're allowed to stay up and watch the Tonys with me and Auntie B," Santana sighed, rolling her eyes with an affectionate smirk for her two nieces, thinking that the apple didn't fall far from the tree when it came to the Berry family. Both of their kids were one hundred percent hooked on the magic of Broadway, and they loved the glamor and fanfare of the awards shows. And as this was the first time in either of their lives that Rachel was up for a Tony herself, they were all the more overexcited. "But you still have to rinse off and finish your bath, brush your teeth, and get into PJ's. So let's get a move on, huh? You don't wanna miss the opening number, do you?"

"Right," Zoe nodded decisively, squeezing her eyes shut and dunking her head under the water to rinse out her hair, while Santana helped three-year-old Charlotte lean back and rinse her hair without dunking her head, which she was still too afraid to do at age three.

"Auntie Santa?" the little girl asked, yawning softly and blinking her big brown eyes as Santana rinsed the shampoo from her hair. She may be allowed to stay up tonight, but the Latina was pretty sure the littlest Berry would be asleep on the couch within thirty minutes anyway.

"Yeah, squirt?"

"When will you an' Auntie B have a baby?" Santana snorted at the question, but couldn't stop the small grin that tugged at the corner of her mouth.

"You think we should be moms, half-pint?"

"Yah," Charlie nodded, as Zoe climbed out of the tub and began drying herself off.

"Of course you should, dummy," the older child agreed, grinning at Santana with such a sardonic _duh_ expression, head cocked to one side, that for a moment the Latina swore she was looking at an eight-year-old Quinn.

"Yeah, an' give us a baby cousin to play with," Charlie agreed, smiling sleepily as Santana scooped her up and wrapped her in a fluffy white towel.

"Did Auntie B tell you to say that?" Santana asked, only half teasing, as she toweled off Charlotte's silky baby-soft hair.

"No. But I already asked Mama an' Mommy if we could have another baby, and they said no 'cause our family is just right. So it's your turn now, Auntie Santa. I don't want to be the littlest anymore." Santana chuckled and set the little girl down on the bath mat, pulling her pajama top down over her damp head.

"Well I tell ya what, squirt…we might just do that. But not tonight. C'mon, let's get your teeth brushed and then we'll go find Auntie B and get the show started."

…...

At Radio City Music Hall, Rachel and Quinn were still making their way down the red carpet, smiling for the endless stream of press photographers and talking politely to interviewers and reporters who thrust lights and microphones in their faces.

"Don't tell Kurt I said this, but I'm kind of over this whole scene," Rachel said to Quinn under her breath, as they gave one final wave to the press line before ducking into the theater to take their seats.

"Oh _really?_" Quinn raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Ready for retirement already, are we?"

"I didn't say _that_," Rachel rolled her eyes, smirking at her teasing wife and giving her a little smack on the ass as they walked down the red velvet aisle. "I'd just rather spend my free evenings at home, hanging out with the kids, than be all dressed up for another dog and pony show here."

"Aww, my little Donna Reed," Quinn cooed, slipping a hand down to the dip in Rachel's backless dress to guide her to her seat. "Well if it'll make you feel better, you can make us some chocolate chip cookies when we get home tonight..."

"I'd rather put something _else_ that's hot, sweet and sticky in your mouth, miss smartass," Rachel growled, giving Quinn a saucy little wink as they took their seats.

"Ooh, is that a promise...?" They were giggling and giving each other dirty looks when Quinn's cell phone vibrated in her pleated satin Kate Spade clutch, and she fished it out absently with a grin plastered to her face. "Hey San, everything okay with..." The smile slid slowly from the blonde girl's face as her voice trailed off, and the rosy color drained sharply from her cheeks.

"Quinn? What's wrong? Are the kids all right?" Rachel asked nervously, but Quinn had already jumped up from her seat, an expression of undiluted terror in her bright hazel eyes.

"We have to get to the hospital, Rach."

…...

It was only a mile and a half from Radio City to New York Presbyterian Hospital, but Rachel still gave the driver a $100 bill when they climbed into the cab, demanding that he get them there as fast as humanly possible. The little starlet spent the entirety of the short trip on her cell phone, yelling at various receptionists in the hospital's emergency room as she tried to track down the chief of pediatric emergency medicine. Quinn, meanwhile, just put her head down between her knees and tried not to throw up as the cab took another sharp turn at high speed through busy midtown traffic.

It was no more than twenty minutes later, though it felt like much longer, when Quinn and Rachel found their way to the small private exam room where their three-year-old was curled up fast asleep in a plain white hospital bed, with Santana at her side, stroking her tiny forehead. The littlest Berry looked a little pale and sweaty, but otherwise whole and unharmed as she lay sleeping with her mouth wide open, her chest rising and falling evenly. Beside the bed, Brittany held a sniffling Zoe tight in her arms, rocking her and cooing softly. Both kids were in their pajamas, their hair still damp from the bath.

"Mommy, Mama," Zoe whimpered when she saw them, twisting out from Brittany's arms and throwing herself at Quinn, who scooped her up and hugged her tightly, stroking the back of her head as the little girl broke down into a torrent of exhausted sobbing. "Charlie fell down an' she was shaking all over, and I, I, I thought she was just having a tantrum and I told her to get up and stop being a baby, and then, then s-she made a funny sound an' I s-saw blood all coming out of her mouth, and I thought she was dying…" Zoe wailed into Quinn's shoulder, shaking and gasping as her frightened mom tried to soothe her.

"Shh, it's okay now baby, we're here…we're all safe, Mommy's got you…shh…"

"I'll go get the doctor," Santana offered, hastily jumping up from her seat for Rachel, who immediately took her place beside the bed and slipped her hand through the child safety bars to feel her sleeping baby's face.

"She's burning up, Quinn," Rachel murmured worriedly, smoothing a lock of damp hair back from the little girl's cheek. Quinn sat down weakly in the seat beside her, Zoe still wrapped tightly around her like a baby monkey.

"The doctor said it was a febrile seizure," Brittany offered meekly, twisting her wedding ring nervously around her finger and looking like she didn't quite know what to do with herself now. "It happened so fast, and we didn't know what to do so we just called 911…but they said it's not serious, and she could go home as soon as you guys got here…"

"Not serious?" Rachel hissed, her voice trembling with fury. "Are they kidding? A _seizure?_ What, does she have to bite her tongue off for it to be considered serious? Does she have epilepsy? Tell me exactly what happened, Britt. Every detail." Before Brittany could answer, Santana returned with the doctor, a kindly-looking Asian man with greying temples and a neatly trimmed goatee.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Chu," he said, his calm voice and pacifying smile doing little to put Quinn and Rachel at ease as he shook their hands. "I'm the attending pediatric physician in this hospital, and I've been monitoring your daughter since she was brought in tonight. Let me assure you, right off the bat, that she's not in any danger. Can I assume from the looks on both your faces that this is the first time Charlotte's had a seizure?"

"Yes," Rachel nodded anxiously, putting a gentle hand on Zoe's back as the eight-year-old started whimpering again. "Have you done every possible test to know what caused this? Are you sure she doesn't have epilepsy?"

"Your daughter had what's known as a febrile seizure. It's very common in young children between ages one and five, and the odds of developing epilepsy are no greater than for any other healthy child. 95 percent of kids who have their first febrile seizure after their second birthday go on to live perfectly normal, healthy lives. Truly, she's going to be just fine."

"But you didn't do any tests?" Rachel persisted, and Quinn could see her starting to go into her own, diva version of HBIC mode. "I mean, a kid just has a seizure out of nowhere, and you're not even going to bother finding out what caused it?"

"In cases like this, invasive testing is only going to cause more distress for the child. She was brought in with a fever of…" He checked his clipboard, "A hundred and four degrees. It's very common for a high-grade fever like this to cause a seizure in a young child—one in twenty-five kids will have a febrile seizure before their fifth birthday."

"A hundred and four?" Quinn gasped, looking at Santana angrily. "Why didn't you call us sooner?"

"I swear, Q, she was acting completely normal," Santana shook her head helplessly, looking like she might burst into tears. Brittany squeezed her hand. "We had no idea…"

"Don't blame yourself, young lady," Dr. Chu said gently, patting Santana on the shoulder. "It's not terribly uncommon for young children to develop a fever suddenly, and they can often be asymptomatic for several hours. The seizure itself can sometimes be the first sign that a child is sick. Considering the circumstances, you did exactly the right thing by bringing her in." Santana nodded, sniffling and wiping at her eyes in obvious embarrassment. Zoe lifted her head from Quinn's shoulder, and crawled over her to reach out for Santana's arms.

"It's okay, Auntie Santa," the eight-year-old murmured, climbing into her arms and hugging her tightly, with a huge yawn of exhaustion as her terror drained slowly away. "You did good. Don't be sad."

"Thanks, noodle," Santana murmured, hugging the clingy child in her arms with a dejected little smile.

"So we can really just take her home? You don't want to run any tests to make sure she doesn't have a brain tumor or something?" Rachel asked again, one hand still resting protectively over her sleeping child. "You _do_ realize I could pay for an entire new wing of this hospital if you said it would help my kid?"

"Of course, Miss Berry," The doctor grinned a little sheepishly. "If you were to insist, we could perform a CAT scan and a battery of blood tests, and hold Charlotte here overnight for observation. But if you want my professional opinion, as the chief pediatric attending physician at this hospital, take your kid home. What she needs is rest, fluids and Ibuprofen for the fever. She'll be good as new before you know it."

"I want the tests," Rachel said firmly; but Quinn leaned over and put a pacifying hand on her arm.

"Rach, no," she begged, glancing from her peacefully sleeping child to the anxious, hyper-alert one still clinging to Santana. "When you offer to dump a bag of money on the hospital, and the doctor _still_ says the tests aren't necessary, the tests aren't necessary. Let's just take her home and let her rest. I don't want her to spend the night in a strange place if she doesn't have to. We can give her what she needs at home, where she'll be comfortable."

"Yeah, home," Zoe nodded sleepily from Santana's shoulder, rubbing her eyes. "I can help take care of Charlie, Mama." Rachel looked from Zoe, to Quinn, back to the doctor, and sighed.

"All right, let's go home." Dr. Chu signed the discharge sheet with follow-up instructions for Quinn and Rachel, and gave Zoe a lollypop from his coat pocket for being a brave big sister, plus an extra one for Charlie when she woke up. Zoe picked a red one for herself and a blue one for Charlie, then gave him a big hug before he left. Brittany and Santana followed suit, with more hugs and kisses and unnecessary apologies, leaving Quinn and Rachel to scoop up their kids and get them home. Little Charlotte stirred and mumbled in her sleep when Quinn scooped her up from the bed, but didn't wake up until they were halfway home in the cab.

"Mommy?" she murmured woozily, as her eyes blinked slowly open in Quinn's arms.

"Hey, there's our little jellyfish," Quinn cooed, beaming as she leaned down and pressed a few soft kisses to her child's feverish forehead. "How do you feel, baby?" Charlotte yawned and rubbed her eyes sleepily. Rachel and Zoe both leaned in close to hear the three-year-old's groggy voice.

"Mama win the Tony?" 


	12. Guess Who's Coming to Breakfast

Hey there, gleeks! Did everybody see the 3D concert movie this weekend? We liked it, but we were a little annoyed that the cast still had to be in character during the behind-the-scenes parts…and obviously we all agreed that there was not _nearly_ enough Dianna throughout. But, overall, a fine romp. Just over a month till season 3 comes on the air…and I'll finish up these snapshots and go back to the real-time chronicles of Quinn & Rachel in **Take Me as I Am: Season 3**!

Enjoy this chap…and in answer to the biggest question from the last chapter, of _course_ Rachel won the Tony ;)

-JW

…...

**Snapshots: Guess Who's Coming to Breakfast**

**March 2036**

…...

It was 6:45 am on the first morning of spring break, and eleven-year-old Charlotte Berry was already wide awake, showered and dressed when she made her way to the kitchen to pour herself a bowl of cereal. She was only mildly surprised to find her mama already up and poking around the kitchen; even on a day off, they were the two early birds in the family, and they both sometimes woke up early for no reason at all, just looking for a project or an adventure to fill the time until the rest of the world woke up, too.

"Morning jellyfish," Rachel smiled at her youngest child from the kitchen island, where she was busily zesting oranges over a large mixing bowl. "What are you doing up so early on vacation, hmm?"

"Uncle Kurt's taking Parker and me to our first skateboarding lesson!" Charlotte grinned back happily, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet as she jumped up to reach a cereal bowl from the overhead cabinet. "I can't wait to make him eat my dust."

"Oh my goodness, that's today?" Rachel frowned and bit her lip, obviously not thrilled with the idea of her kid flying through the air on nothing but a thin strip of wood on wheels. "You've got your helmet and all your pads, right?"

"Yes Mama," Charlie rolled her eyes as she poured soymilk over her peanut butter puffs.

"Okay, well...just be careful, hmm baby? And remember that the human brain has the same consistency as a bowl of Jell-O."

"Ew, gross!" Charlie wrinkled her nose in disgust as she sat down across from Rachel at the island with her cereal. "I _said_ I'll be careful. Don't be such a worrywart, Mama."

"I know honey, I trust you. I just had to say it once." Rachel smirked and gave her daughter a little wink, wiping the last of the orange zest off her hands and meticulously measuring flour and other dry ingredients. Charlotte peered curiously over the edge of the mixing bowl, her small feet swinging under the table as she crunched on her cereal.

"Whatcha makin'?"

"Cranberry orange walnut muffins with brown sugar crumble," Rachel smiled, taking a small baking sheet of toasted walnuts from the oven and pouring them onto the cutting board to chop.

"Mommy's favorite," Charlie smiled back, watching her mother meticulously chopping the nuts with smooth, even swipes of the long butcher knife.

"Mm-hmm. She had kind of a crappy week at work, and she was up _very_ late last night re-doing the proofs for this completely obnoxious client who keeps changing her mind at the last minute; so I thought I'd surprise her today with breakfast in bed."

"I'll make her a card to put on the tray," Charlotte exclaimed exuberantly, abandoning her cereal to get paper and crayons from her craft corner.

"Finish your cereal first, honey," Rachel instructed gently, raising an eyebrow pointedly at her daughter's indignant eye rolling. "Hey, can't make Parker eat your dust on an empty stomach, right?"

"Right," Charlotte sighed, sitting back down and picking up her spoon. She finished the rest of her cereal quickly, then put her dish in the sink and ran to get her art supplies. As she sat back down at her chair, however, she looked up and saw something in the hall that completely derailed her eleven-year-old train of thought from skateboards, muffins or even cheering up Mommy. Just a few feet behind Rachel's back, sixteen-year-old Zoe was tiptoeing down the hallway in her pajamas, leading a strange boy by the hand, obviously trying to get him out of the apartment undetected.

Charlotte's jaw dropped, and her big brown eyes widened comically as Zoe turned and glared at her, silently beginning her little sister to help her out and not cause a scene. Charlie gulped, glancing hastily back at Rachel, who luckily was hunched slightly over the cutting board and hadn't seen her shocked expression. With a little squeak of panic, Charlotte jumped out of her chair, racing around the island to the open area in the center of the kitchen where, if she could keep Rachel's eyes on her, Zoe and her mystery suitor could slip past undetected.

"Mama! Um, I almost forgot, I have to show you my choreography for the spring dance recital. Watch me! Are you watching Mama?"

"Why don't you show me and Mommy both tonight, honey? I'm right in the middle of this right now."

"No, watch me now! Please, I'll be so fast!"

"Okay, okay, relax," Rachel snickered, smiling in mild confusion at her daughter's sudden shift in mood (but then again, they were both prone to sudden bursts of energy and inspiration at odd times; so it wasn't entirely out of character for the littlest Berry to demand an audience without notice). Charlotte smiled innocently and quickly threw together a few dance moves to cover her lie, triumphantly watching from the corner of her eye as her sister slipped past undetected in the hallway. Her heart gave a giddy leap, knowing she'd just helped her cool big sister get away with something, and hoping it would earn her the right to hear a few details later tonight. Then a high-pitched shriek of alarm emanated from the front hall.

"Oh no, oh no, oh noooo," the little girl whimpered softly to herself as she trailed after her mama to the source of the scream, where they were both confronted by a very shocked Kurt, holding a confused Parker by the hand and staring at Zoe and the mystery beau, who were both rapidly turning red as Kurt mouthed soundlessly at them.

"Ummm...hi, Uncle Kurt. Hey Parker," Zoe waved sheepishly at them, biting her lip as a small, embarrassed half-grin emerged at the corner of her mouth. Kurt just stared at her in bewilderment, then turned and shared another, equally bewildered glance with Rachel, whose shocked expression was quickly deteriorating into pure, undiluted outrage.

"Zoe Alessandra Berry, are you- is this- how-" Rachel stuttered furiously, unable to commit to a full sentence.

"Please relax, Ma. It's not what it looks like."

"Oh really? Because it _looks_ like you're sneaking a strange boy out of the house after having him in your room all night!" Kurt gave a tiny moan and clutched the lintel for support.

"Okay, well, yes, that part _is_ what it looks like, but we didn't do anything. I mean, we did _some_ things, but not _the_ thing, and then we just fell asleep talking and I didn't want to freak you guys out, so...so I thought this would be the best course of action for the moment. But I guess it's too late now for the whole, not freaking out thing?" Zoe smiled nervously, shooting her still silent gentleman caller an apologetic look as he glanced back and forth between Rachel and Kurt, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. Rachel closed her eyes, and took a long, slow, deep breath.

"Charlie, honey, go wake mom up and tell her we have company and I need her out here." Charlotte whined anxiously, not wanting to miss any of the action.

"Do as your mother asks, Charlie," Kurt prompted sternly, getting a tiny bit of his decorum back as he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the poor boy who stood sweating at Zoe's side. With a groan, Charlotte turned and dragged her feet down the hall.

"Mrs. Berry, I'm so sorry," the mystery boy finally squeaked, in a slightly strangled voice. "This is _so_ not the way I wanted to meet you. I mean, not that I've thought a lot about meeting you- I just wanted to make a good first impression and stuff, you know? Not because you're famous or anything, just 'cause you're Zoe's mom, I mean you're _one_ of her moms, and I really care about her a lot, so obviously I wanted to make a good impression. I swear we just fell asleep talking. I would never take advantage of Zoe, I _totally_ respect her." He gulped and looked back at the furiously blushing girl beside him, who grinned weakly and squeezed his hand. Rachel groaned and rubbed her forehead.

"Maybe you could start by telling us your name," she sighed, as the red flush began to drain slightly from her face.

"Max Ramirez," the tall boy smiled awkwardly, holding out a large hand. Rachel shook it weakly.

"Well, Max Ramirez...I think you'd better come have a seat in the living room. You too, Zoe." The two teenagers looked at each other with expressions of pure dread, but they followed Rachel down the hall, where they were met by Charlie and a dazed, puffy-eyed Quinn, absently smoothing down her sleep-mussed blonde hair as she sat down on the couch and tucked her pajama-clad legs up under her.

"What a lovely way to start the weekend," she grumbled sarcastically, yawning as Rachel sat down next to her and squeezed her arm.

"Tell me about it," Rachel huffed, crossing both arms and legs as she glared coolly across the room at the two mortified teens now sitting side-by-side on the couch. "If they knew how to sneak properly, you could've woken up to fresh baked muffins."

"Sorry Mom," Zoe smiled nervously. Quinn groaned and rubbed the heel of her hand into her eye.

"Jesus, I'm getting a migraine…"

Rachel un-crossed her arms and lightly kneaded the back of Quinn's neck with one hand. "Charlie honey, will you go get Mommy some water and a couple of Excedrin from the kitchen?" Charlotte went quickly this time, without complaint, hoping that good behavior would improve her chances to stay and hear the whole story of her big sister's super-sexy secret boyfriend.

"Thank you baby," Quinn murmured, swallowing the painkillers and kissing the top of Charlotte's dark head. "Now go grab your stuff and go with Parker and Uncle Kurt. We'll see you tonight. Be careful on your skateboard."

"'Kay," Charlotte sighed glumly, sensing that now was not the time to pitch a fit of her own if she wanted to stay in her sister's good graces long enough to get the story out of her at some point. She hoisted her backpack over her shoulder and crossed the room to where Kurt and Parker were waiting, giving her sister an anxious little wave. Zoe waved back meekly, with a weak half-smile that said _thanks anyway_ as her little sister disappeared down the hall. A moment later, they heard the front door slam, leaving the teenagers alone with two very unhappy parents.

"Okay, I'm not at my best before breakfast, but let me see if I understand the situation," Quinn said slowly, looking back and forth between her daughter, who was nervously pushing a lock of pink-streaked hair back behind her ear, and the lanky, disheveled boy beside her. "This boy, whose name I don't even know, has been in your room all night? Is this the first time, or are you running a hotel back there?"

"It's the first time, Jesus!" Zoe groaned, blushing bright red and shooting Max another apologetic look. "And we just fell asleep talking, that's _all._ Mom, this is Max. I met him at the Nuyorican open mic last month. Max, this is my mom."

"Uhh, hi, Mrs. Berry," Max waved weakly.

"You can call me Quinn, Max. And I suppose you've already met my wife Rachel." Quinn gave Rachel's shoulder a brief squeeze; but Rachel just glowered and crossed her arms again.

"You can keep calling me Mrs. Berry," Rachel said coolly. Zoe groaned, and Quinn sighed wearily.

"Mama, please," Zoe whined, twisting her thumb ring anxiously. "You're jumping to all the wrong conclusions; I can see it all over your face. We didn't do anything wrong, okay? This was completely innocent. I was just trying to spare you from an unnecessary freak-out. Too late for that now, I guess."

"If you wanted to spare us the freak out, Zo, next time try _not_ having secret overnight guests in the first place," Rachel growled.

"You're one to talk! When you guys were my age, you were _living_ together. This was just one night. What's the big deal?"

"That's completely different," Rachel huffed indignantly.

"Why?" Zoe demanded furiously.

"A million reasons!" Rachel yelled feverishly, standing up and starting to pace around the room. "We weren't sneaking around behind our parents' backs, first of all. Your mom had nowhere else to go, and Grandpa and Poppy _invited_ her to come live with us. They practically adopted her; you know that. She had her own room and everything."

"Oh, yeah, like I'm _really_ supposed to believe you guys never slept in the same bed when you were dating and living together at sixteen. You're such hypocrites!"

"Okay, everybody relax," Quinn demanded, raising an eyebrow threateningly at her quarreling wife and daughter. "Rachel, sit down." Reluctantly, the dark-haired starlet sat, keeping her back very straight and tapping her foot impatiently. "Zoe, this conversation is about our family and our rules, not about your grandparents. But in the interest of fairness and honesty, yes, of course we did sleep together in the same bed when we were your age. But we didn't have sex until after I moved back in with Grandma, okay?"

"But you could have if you wanted to," Zoe persisted stubbornly, not about to give up her last shred of moral high ground if she could help it.

"It's still not the same, honey," Quinn shook her head.

"Why not?" Zoe asked indignantly.

"Because we couldn't get each other pregnant!" Rachel yelled, her cheeks flushing bright pink again.

"Oh my God, that is _completely_ heterosexist, and you are _such_ a hypocrite! She was pregnant when you got together!" Zoe yelled back, pointing to her mother, who groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"Zoe, enough. Rachel, you're not helping. Max, you look like you could use a cup of coffee. Do you want to come to the kitchen with me and make some?" Without waiting for a reply, Quinn rose elegantly from the couch and padded into the kitchen, not bothering to look behind her to see who was following.

"Thanks, Mrs…I mean, Quinn. I'm really sorry about all this. I promise it won't ever happen again." Quinn nodded quietly, taking out soy creamer and sugar as the coffee pot bubbled and began to fill.

"People make mistakes, Max," the blonde woman sighed, sitting down on a stool at the kitchen island with a sad little half-smile. "It's part of life, and it's definitely part of high school. We don't expect Zoe to be perfect…but we do expect her to be honest with us."

"Mom, I'm sorry." Zoe appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her head cocked to one side, her pink-streaked hair trailing over one shoulder as she turned her best sad puppy eyes on her mother. "I never meant to lie to you, it wasn't like that."

"So tell me what it was like," Quinn shrugged, as Zoe came and sat beside her at the counter.

"I was just really nervous, and I guess I kept putting it off 'cause I was scared that you guys would be really intimidating and scare him away. That's why we were up so late talking last night…Max was trying to convince me that all this agonizing was just making it worse, and that it wouldn't be such a big deal. Obviously that was before he met Mama." Quinn sighed, and poured three cups of hot coffee from the steaming carafe.

"Yeah, well, you did kind of set her up on that one, kiddo. But she'll calm down…she just wants you to be safe and happy, you know."

"I know," Zoe nodded glumly.

"And if Max makes you happy, he's very welcome here," Quinn smirked, raising an eyebrow at the two teens as she passed the coffee cups around. "But no more sneaking around, got it? You're still in high school, and there are rules around here."

"Totally. Thanks Mom," Zoe grinned weakly and kissed Quinn on the cheek.

"Yeah, thanks," Max nodded with a sigh of relief, taking a big gulp of hit coffee and immediately spitting it back into the cup because it was too hot. Zoe and Quinn both giggled.

"Oh, so _now_ you're acting nervous?" Zoe teased, patting his leg.

"Delayed response. I was in survival mode before," he shrugged, joking weakly. Then they all looked up as Rachel finally came in and stood in the doorway, arms crossed, but with a much calmer, measured expression than before.

"So Max…where do you go to school?" The little starlet asked carefully, obviously looking for neutral ground for whatever new beginnings were possible.

"Um, I'm a junior at Bronx Science. I'm hoping to get an engineering scholarship for college, but if that falls through, I can go to CUNY for free 'cause my mom's a professor." Rachel's eyebrow went up in interest, and she nodded thoughtfully.

"Well that's…that's lovely, actually. I'm sure you're a very nice young man, if Zoe finds your company worthwhile, and I apologize for my bad behavior before. You just really caught us off guard. But Zoe's a good kid, and we trust her judgment. Mostly." Rachel raised an eyebrow at Zoe, an impish little smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. Zoe grinned and stuck her tongue out. "So, can we all agree to start fresh, and put this unpleasantness behind us? Stay and tell us a little about yourself over breakfast, Max."

"Oh, well, that sounds really cool, Mrs. B, but actually I have to go meet my study group for Engineering Club in, like, fifteen minutes. We're working on this prototype for a smart robot that could assist disabled people." Quinn looked at Rachel significantly; raising an eyebrow as if to say _don't you feel like an ass now?_ Rachel just sighed and smiled silently back at her wife, with a little roll of her eyes that told Quinn she was ready to play nice, even if she wasn't _entirely _sorry for freaking out in the first place. Teenagers did dumb things, after all. As did grownups.

"You can call me Rachel, Max."


	13. Schoolyard Scuffle

Hey everybody!

Sorry for the delay on this update...I had it mostly written before the weekend, and then the hurricane happened! I'm totally fine, my neighborhood was one of the safest spots in NYC when the storm hit last night (in fact there were a couple of emergency shelters set up right around the corner for the people who were evacuated from other parts of the city that were flooding). Anyway, our internetz did go down for a while; but it's back now! Here's an update to start your week off right. I think this is the first one of these snapshots I've written that doesn't actually have any Quinn or Rachel in it...but I think you'll still enjoy it! :)

-JW

…...

**Snapshots: Schoolyard Scuffle**

**October 2030**

…...

The fall air was cool and brisk, and the sun shone brightly through the multicolored dappled leaves as Charlie's kindergarten class walked single-file across the courtyard from their classroom to the performing arts building for music class. The five-year-old craned her neck past her classmates' heads to see out into the athletic field, where the fifth graders were playing soccer. Charlotte had been very disappointed to learn, soon after starting kindergarten at her new "big-kid school," that she wouldn't get to see her big sister much, or at all really, during the school day. The idea of seeing Zoe every day had been one of the major reasons she hadn't put up more of a fuss about leaving her preschool, which she'd grown very attached to.

But Charlotte wasn't the type of kid to stay in a bad mood for long. She'd soon noted that on alternating days, when her class walked across campus to their music lesson, her sister's class was in gym; and in good weather, they'd be outdoors, in clear view of her path across campus. Sometimes she'd wave, and Zoe would wave back. Charlie liked that.

Today was definitely good weather for October, and Charlotte smiled widely when she saw her sister running across the small field with the soccer ball, about to score a goal. But then, before Zoe had a chance to take her shot, another girl stepped directly into her path; and instead of intercepting the ball, she deliberately stuck her foot out in front of Zoe's leg, sending her face-first into the grass. Charlotte saw the other girl's foul clearly, and heard her sister's sharp cry of pain when she face-planted hard against the ground.

_"Hey!"_ The smallest of all the kindergarteners shrieked, breaking out of line and running (remarkably fast, considering how tiny she was) past her teacher and across the courtyard, to where the fifth graders were gathering around Zoe, who sat on the ground crying and pressing a hand to her bloody nose. The girl who'd tripped her- stocky, red-haired, and sneering in unconcealed amusement- was standing slightly back from the small crowd, snickering cruelly to her friends. Charlotte made a beeline for her.

"You tripped my sister on purpose!" The five-year-old shrieked; and before anyone could stop her, she grabbed the mean girl's arm and bit down until she tasted blood.

Instantly, chaos ensued. The red-haired bully screamed and backhanded her five-year-old attacker across the face to get her off her arm. Charlotte's cry of pain when she landed hard on her back caught Zoe's attention, and she tried to get up to defend her little sister, though several hands held her down by her blood-spattered shirt. Four teachers had been drawn into the fray at this point, and through the bedlam, the gruff gym coach managed to get a hand on each of the Berry kids and steer them forcefully through the crowd to the nurse's office, another teacher steering the red-haired bully close behind.

"Oh my goodness!" Gasped the kindly old white-haired school nurse as the small procession of bloody children was ushered through her door. Zoe, at the front of the group, was obviously the worst off; she still had one hand covering her face, but there was blood dripping down her chin and soaking into the front of her gym shirt, and she was crying too hard to talk. Charlotte, behind her, was crying too, though it was more from emotional distress than physical pain; yet she still looked alarming, with blood on her lips and teeth, and a bright purple welt blooming across her left temple. Just behind them, another teacher brought in the red-haired bully, who was the only one not crying as she clutched her hand over the small, bloody bite mark on her forearm, muttering curses under her breath.

"What on earth happened to these children?" The old woman asked, looking to the teachers rather than the kids themselves for an answer.

"That little psycho-brat bit me!"

"She hurted Zoe on purpose! She's a bad girl!"

While Charlie and the other girl yelled over each other, Zoe just closed her eyes and whimpered, barely noticing the hands steering her to the small exam table and drawing her hands away from her face.

"Oh, dear, this will need an x-ray," the nurse sighed, gently wiping the blood from Zoe's face and then pressing a bag of frozen peas across the bridge of her nose. "Hold that there, sweetheart, and just lie back and relax a little while. I'll call your parents to come pick you up, all right?"

"By paredts ared't hobe," Zoe whined behind her frozen peas, her voice muffled and stuffy from the nosebleed.

"What did you say, dear?"

"She s-said our parents aren't home," Charlie sniffled, wiping her eyes with a little hiss of pain as she came too close to the bruised area beside her left eye. "W-we're s-staying with our aunties this week. Mommy an' Mama w-went to Ohio 'c-cause Poppy got hurted and had to g-go to the hospital. Does Zoe hafta go t-to the hospital? _*Sniff!*_"

"I'll call their guardians, Maureen," Charlotte's teacher said to the nurse, still keeping one hand on Charlie's shoulder in case the little girl decided to take another shot at avenging her sister's honor. "I have the number in my classroom emergency file." The nurse nodded absently and turned to assess the red-haired girl, who was still clutching her arm with furious tears in her eyes.

"Now, what happened to you, Angela?"

"That crazy little freak bit me!"

"Why on earth would she do that?" the old woman asked, as she brought out peroxide and cotton balls to clean out the wound. It wasn't deep, but it _was_ bleeding a bit.

"Because she's a complete psycho, just like her mom."

"No! Because she hurted Zoe! I saw what she did!"

"Girls, that's enough," The kindergarten teacher said sharply. "We will sort this all out with your parents, not here in the nurse's office. For now, I want you all separated. Angela, you go sit in the front room. Charlotte, you can stay here with you sister." Charlie ran straight to the exam table and hugged Zoe's legs protectively. Zoe, who was woozy with pain, reached down with her free hand (the one not holding the peas across her face) and stroked the top of her sister's head absently, the way Quinn did when she was putting them to sleep. Charlotte sniffled and burrowed her head into Zoe's leg.

"Zoe, are you okay?" The five-year-old asked in an unusually soft voice.

"It hurts," Zoe whispered, eyes closed as she held the frozen peas to her face.

"Want me to sing you a feel better song like Mama?"

"Sure, jellyfish," Zoe sighed, cracking her eyes open to look down at her little sister's anxious face. Charlotte sniffed and gave her a watery smile, then began to softly sing "Baby Beluga" as the nurse pressed a pack of frozen peas to the bruise on the side of her face.

…...

Half an hour later, Santana came charging into the office, her eight-month-old son Cody cooing in his stroller. When the baby saw Charlotte, he squealed in delight, waving his chubby fists in excitement for what he assumed would be another extended playdate with his favorite cousin. He didn't understand why Mama didn't let him out of his chair to play, and he squawked indignantly to express his displeasure.

"Girls, are you both okay?" Santana asked anxiously, dropping to her knees to assess her two surrogate nieces.

"I wanna go home, Auntie Santa," Zoe whined, as Santana gently removed the frozen peas to get a good look at her face.

"Aw, noodle, we're gonna have to go to the doctor first. You need an x-ray," Santana murmured sympathetically, stroking a hand soothingly across Zoe's dirt-streaked forehead. Zoe whimpered miserably, closing her eyes as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.

"Stupid Angela Atherton," she mumbled quietly to herself; but Santana heard her and immediately stood up straight, a hard look coming into her eyes that none of the kids had seen before.

"Is she the one who did this to you, Z?"

"Yeah," Zoe whispered, awkwardly wiping her eyes without pressing on any of the tender areas around her nose. "She hates me, I don't know why. She always says mean things about Mommy and Mama being snobs 'cause they're famous."

"Mean girl tripped Zoe on the soccer field," Charlotte added furiously. "I saw, Auntie Santa. An' I got her back, too."

"And is that how you got this shiner, little squirt?" Santana asked, tilting Charlotte's chin up so she could examine the welt on the little girl's temple.

"Uh-huh," Charlie nodded sheepishly. Then Cody started to wail, unused to being ignored as he fussed for attention from his stroller. Charlie went over to him and kissed his chubby cheeks, taking one of his hands and swinging it lightly up and down in her own. Immediately, he stopped crying, beaming toothlessly up at her with a little hiccup.

"Well, we'll just have to talk to your principal about this bully, won't we?" Santana said quietly to Zoe, a slightly dangerous edge to her voice that the kids hadn't heard before. "C'mon girls, let's get your stuff so we can get out of here." The Berry girls quickly jumped up and followed, keenly aware of the no-nonsense edge in their aunt's voice as she lead them out to the street and hailed a cab.

…...

"So," Santana said quietly as they all sat quietly waiting in the doctor's office. "You went after a kid twice your size, pipsqueak? With your teeth?"

"Don't get mad at Charlie, Auntie Santa," Zoe piped up, looking a little worse for wear as two black eyes were blooming on her dirt-smudged face. "She was only trying to protect me."

"I'm not mad, guys," Santana shook her head with a little smirk. "Actually, I'm kind of impressed. But don't tell your moms, okay? I have a feeling they'll have a different view of the matter."

"So you're not gonna punish me?" Charlie asked hopefully, looking up from her quiet game of peek-a-boo with baby Cody.

"I think that welt on your face is punishment enough, squirt. In fact, I kind of think that once we get out of this doctor's office, we all deserve some ice cream."

"You mean _real_ ice cream? Not vegan?" Zoe asked, smiling hopefully. Though their household was a hundred percent vegan, Quinn and Rachel did let their kids splurge on non-vegan treats for special occasions when they went out; but both kids were pretty sure that a schoolyard brawl would _not_ qualify as the right kind of special occasion to either of their moms.

"You just had your first real smackdown; I'd say that demands _real_ ice cream."

"You're the bestest, Auntie Santa," Charlie beamed, throwing her arms around Santana's neck and kissing her.

"Yeah, well, I'm just glad you girls aren't afraid to stand up for yourselves and each other. If somebody hurts you, they need to find out they're gonna get hurt even worse. Nobody messes with our crew, right?"

"Right," both kids nodded. Cody gurgled and chewed on his plastic rattle.

"But, seriously. Don't tell your moms. Or Auntie B." Santana raised a threatening eyebrow. Zoe and Charlie just giggled, and agreed.


	14. When Gold Stars Lose Their Shine

Hey gleeks! Two updates in three days, and it's not even your birthday! (Unless your name is Lea Michele…haha). What can I say. Don't expect another update this quickly, but every once in a while I get more than my usual dose of weekly inspiration; and you get to reap the rewards! This one is _classic_ angst-followed-by-fluff…I know some of you thrive on this diet…enjoy! :)

-JW

…

**Snapshots: When Gold Stars Lose their Shine**

**May 2014**

…

Rachel sat alone at her makeup mirror, dabbing on a final coat of lipstick and trying to keep her nerves in check as she prepared for the single most important night of her young life. In less than 15 minutes, she'd be out on stage, giving her very first performance of her first Broadway show—in a starring role, no less. The previews had been overwhelmingly positive, and the house was packed, completely sold out. There was even a New York Times reviewer in the audience, whom Rachel had been introduced to shortly before going into wardrobe an hour earlier. Everything was perfect. Well, almost everything.

Rachel had sort of expected Quinn to be waiting in her dressing room when she arrived, with some manner of romantic gesture prepared to properly commemorate the moment. This night was the culmination of her entire life's ambition, after all, and frankly, she'd expected a good-luck-opening-night-gold-star booty call before the show. She knew Quinn had a lot on her plate right now too, of course; unlike Rachel, the blonde girl was still a full-time college student, and she was smack dab in the middle of finals this week. She'd been pretty exhausted and run down lately, and Rachel had found her asleep at her desk with her face resting on an open book more than once in the last few days.

So, fine, maybe it _was_ selfish to expect her to just drop everything to be Rachel's full-time Broadway fangirl for the day. But, still, the little starlet had expected _something_. And the, _I love you, break a leg, you're amazing_ text message she'd gotten earlier in the afternoon certainly did _not_ qualify as an appropriate romantic gesture. Didn't she deserve just a _little_ bit of fuss on the most important night of her entire life?

As she was trying to shake these thoughts off and get into character, Rachel was interrupted by one of the stagehands knocking timidly on her door with an enormous bouquet of flowers from her conspicuously absent girlfriend. The dark-haired starlet practically barked at the gangly young man to get out and give her some space the moment he'd set the floral arrangement down on the table (though she regretted her sharpness the moment the words were out of the mouth—she'd apologize to him later, after the show, when her nerves weren't so jangled).

The flowers were beautiful—lilies, irises, daises, purple statice and yellow solidago all twirled together in a heavy wicker basket—but it didn't do much to calm Rachel's growing hurt and anger with her girlfriend. Flowers? Really? Her first opening night on Broadway— the _only_ first opening night on Broadway she would ever have— and all her girlfriend could be bothered to do was send _flowers?_ It was just so generic. Was it _that _hard for Quinn to just show up and be there for her? Furiously, Rachel plucked the card from the front of the bouquet and skimmed the familiar handwriting:

_To the brightest star in my universe—I can never begin to express how proud I am of you tonight. I'm sorry I can't be there with you backstage, but I didn't want to get in your way on the most important night of your life. I'm in the front row orchestra, can't wait to see you shine tonight little star! _

_XOXO, —Q_

Pouting, Rachel chucked the card down on the table. She knew she should be mollified by this gesture from her girlfriend, but if anything, it only made her feel more neglected. Sure, Quinn was good with words, Rachel knew that; she'd gotten a 5 on her English AP after all. But that only served to reinforce, in Rachel's mind, the fact that Quinn hadn't put much effort into this gift either way. Any idiot could send flowers; it was the perfect last-minute fix for someone who just realized they forgot their girlfriend's birthday, or their anniversary, or, say, that it was the opening night of their girlfriend's first Broadway show and they hadn't done anything to celebrate. Frankly, it was just kind of lame.

"Well, the show must go on, right Barbra?" Rachel sighed quietly to herself, with one final dusting of powder across her face. This much, she knew was true: that no matter what might be going on in her personal life, no matter how upset she might be feeling about anything that went on outside the theater doors, she could _not_ let it interfere with her performance. Tonight, when she walked onto that stage, she would become a _real_ professional actress; and it was time to start acting the part. Quietly, Rachel stood and left her dressing room, finding her mark on the empty stage in the darkness and taking a deep breath before the lights came up.

As soon as the show began, Rachel went into a trance. She wasn't Rachel anymore; she went completely into her character, all awareness of herself and even her audience melting away. It wasn't until after her character's death near the end of the play that she allowed herself to snap back into full awareness, and take a peek from behind the edge of the curtain at the audience. It was indeed a full house—the overexcited little diva was glad she hadn't allowed herself to peek before, because, wow, distraction.

And in the spirit of welcome distractions, Rachel finally allowed her eyes to scan the front row for Quinn's blonde hair and piercing hazel eyes, feeling her spirits lift with the knowledge that she'd just given a truly incredible performance; the whole world had seen it, the reviewer from The New York Times had seen it. Quinn had seen it. It only took a moment for the tiny starlet's gaze to land on her girlfriend; and suddenly, her stomach clenched in pure, undiluted outrage.

Quinn was _asleep_. Right there in the front row, with her head lolling on her shoulder and her mouth half-open like a little kid. Rachel felt hot, angry tears prickling insistently against the backs of her eyes as she squeezed them shut, refusing to let the tears fall. The curtain call was only a minute off; she knew she didn't have time to fix her makeup if she let herself start to cry now.

How could Quinn do this to her? Was the culmination of her life's ambition really _that_ dull to the girl who was supposed to love her and cherish her more than anything else in the universe? Rachel's heart was breaking apart in her chest as she was ushered back on stage for her curtain call, where she received her first Broadway standing ovation, a painfully fake smile plastered to her face as she waved out at her audience. She didn't look down at Quinn, but kept her eyes fixed firmly on the balcony.

…

Backstage, after the curtain dropped, was bedlam. Everyone was cheering, clapping each other on the back, babbling excitedly about the energy of the crowd, the standing ovation, the dazzle and glamour of it all becoming real for the very first time. Rachel smiled and agreed as much as she could manage; but after a few minutes she excused herself to her dressing room, promising to meet up with the rest of the cast at their favorite midtown pub once she'd changed out of costume and recovered her nerves a bit. Privately, she didn't feel much like celebrating…but she knew she had to at least put in an appearance. She wondered how long it would take Quinn to come after her; because Rachel definitely, _definitely _wasn't going after the blonde.

Almost as if summoned by her thoughts, a soft knock sounded on her dressing room door, and her girlfriend's blonde hair trailed lightly over her shoulder as her head popped through the door, smiling wanly.

"Hey, my little star," Quinn murmured, her voice still husky with sleep, her eyes puffy and exhausted. _Yeah, sitting through an entire two-hour Rachel Berry production must be so draining_, Rachel thought furiously, turning her back resolutely on her girlfriend as she continued to change into her street clothes.

"Hello, Quinn," she said frostily, kicking off her costume and yanking on her jeans with sharp, terse movements. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"Uh…" Quinn's voice trailed off uncertainly, obviously picking up on the waves of hostility the little starlet was sending out. Rachel didn't turn around.

"Why don't you just tell me your favorite part, hmm?"

"Rach, listen…"

"No,_ you_ listen!" Rachel spat, finally whirling around with her eyes full of furious tears, not even caring that she was clad in just her bra and jeans while she told her girlfriend off. "Tonight was the most important, most special night of my whole damn life, and you _slept through it_, Quinn! You fucking slept through it! How could you? I've been fantasizing about this night my whole entire life! Every detail! How you'd come surprise me in my dressing room before the show with strawberries and champagne, and we'd have the most amazing sex of our lives, and you'd tell me you always knew I could do it, and you'd kiss me and I'd go on stage floating on a cloud, knowing I was the luckiest girl in the world. All I w-wanted was for you to b-be here for me tonight," Rachel wiped her eyes angrily on the back of her hand as her tears started to fall. Quinn was crying, too, looking back at her with the most heartbroken, agonized expression Rachel had seen her wear since she'd given up baby Beth for adoption in the 10th grade.

"Rach, I…I'm s-so sorry…please just, _*sniff!*,_ just let me explain…"

"What is there to explain, Quinn? You just ruined the most special night of my life. You humiliated me in front of my colleagues. And now I have to go celebrate with them and act like nothing's wrong, which I _really_ will not be able to do if you don't leave right now." Rachel yanked on her shirt and furiously jerked at the sash, tying it in a messy knot at her back. Quinn whimpered and bowed her head, pressing a hand to her forehead and hastily wiping away a few tears.

"I'm sorry," the blonde girl whispered again, staring miserably down at the floor. "I'll go now." She sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Rachel rolled her eyes, unwilling to be pulled in by any display of remorse now; it was too little too late, as far as she was concerned. Silently, the little diva watched her girlfriend trudge out the dressing room door, and neither of them said another word.

…...

It was less than two hours later when Rachel turned her key in the lock of the small East Village apartment she shared with Quinn. The rest of the cast was still out celebrating, and probably would be for hours to come; but Rachel had begged off after a couple of drinks, using the excuse that she was still green to the Broadway world, and couldn't afford a hangover her second night on stage.

She let herself into the apartment quietly, unsure whether Quinn would be home and awake; she might've gone back to the Columbia library for another all-night cram session, or else she might be asleep at her desk again, using _A History of Graphic Design_ as a pillow. The thought gave Rachel a slight pang. Quinn _had_ been working awfully hard lately...and it wasn't as if _she'd_ checked in with the studious blonde girl to see how her finals were going, or if she needed anything, or if she was freaking out. Suddenly, Rachel began to feel guilty for being so hard on Quinn at the theater.

The little starlet sighed heavily as she kicked off her shoes by the door, wandering through the apartment in search of her girlfriend once she saw that her keys were on the hook. Quinn wasn't in the living room, or the bedroom; then a rattling, congested cough drew Rachel's attention to the closed door of her girlfriend's study. That, Rachel knew instantly, was not an "I have a piece of popcorn stuck in the back of my throat" cough. It was an "I'm getting sick but I'm trying to keep it to myself so I don't mess up my girlfriend's opening night on Broadway" cough. Instantly, the dial on Rachel's internal guilt-o-meter began spinning out of control.

"Hey, angel face," The dark-haired starlet cooed softly, letting herself into Quinn's cramped study to find the blonde girl curled up on the small, battered couch in her pajamas, cuddling her old stuffed monster and watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer on her laptop. As if Rachel needed any more proof that her girlfriend wasn't feeling well.

"Hi," Quinn murmured dejectedly, closing her laptop and hugging her stuffed monster tighter as Rachel sat down on the edge of the couch, smoothing Quinn's bangs back to feel her forehead, and wincing at the heat coming off her skin. "Rach, I'm so sorry..."

"Shh, baby," Rachel crooned, snuggling down beside her girlfriend on the couch and wrapping both arms tightly around her as the blonde girl broke down and sobbed. "It's okay Quinn, shh, it's okay...I didn't know..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Quinn sobbed into Rachel's neck, her whole body trembling with feverish emotion. "I w-wanted to make tonight perfect for you...I wanted it so bad, Rach, I swear...everything you said before, I..._*sniff!*_ I w-wanted to give it to you..."

"I know angel, shh, I know," Rachel murmured, stroking a hand loosely through Quinn's messy blonde locks, cuddling up snugly to her crying, feverish girlfriend and rocking her gently. "I'm _so_ sorry I yelled at you Quinnie, I just didn't realize. Why didn't you just _tell_ me you weren't feeling well? I would've understood. I certainly never would've yelled at you like that."

"I know," Quinn sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve with a small, watery smile. "I just...I know how you get when I'm sick, and I didn't want you to be distracted today. I _couldn't _let you be distracted today."

"Oh, Jesus, Quinn…I feel like the world's biggest asshole right now…" Rachel groaned, dropping her head onto her girlfriend's shoulder and hugging her even more tightly.

"No, Rach, please don't," Quinn sighed, sniffling wearily. "I don't blame you for being mad, it was my fault for not telling you what was going on. I just didn't know what the right thing to do was…if I told you I was coming down with something, you'd be distracted all day for sure, and if I _didn't _tell you, then at least I might be able to cover it up or shake it off, and you wouldn't have to take your mind off the show. But I ended up just making you think I was bored or ignoring you on the most important day of your life. I'm so sorry, baby, I'm sorry I ruined everything…" Quinn whimpered and started to cry again, hot tears spilling down her flushed cheeks as she buried her face in her stuffed animal's soft fur.

"Shh, you didn't ruin anything, angel," Rachel hummed soothingly, trailing her fingers lightly up and down Quinn's shaking back to soothe her tears. "The show was amazing, and when the review is printed in the _Times_ tomorrow, the whole world will know it. I was sad that you didn't really get to see it tonight, but you'll have a few hundred more chances for that when you're feeling better, okay babe? Please don't cry…"

"But I still missed out on your opening night," Quinn sniffed, rubbing her eyes with a woozy sigh. "All those things you said before, Rach…I wanted them too, for you. For us. Tonight was a once-in-a-lifetime moment, and I wanted to make it special for you. I just feel so awful…"

"Of _course_ you feel awful, you're burning up," Rachel sighed, stroking Quinn's hair back to feel her face again. "Have you taken anything for this fever, love? And I heard that cough, by the way. It sounds terrible. Maybe we should get you some antibiotics too."

"I took some Tylenol and cough syrup," Quinn sighed, a small smile emerging on her tear-streaked face as her girlfriend fussed lovingly over her. "It's just the finals bug that's been going around school, I don't need a prescription. Everybody's coughing all over the library, it's like a petri dish when we're all in there cramming together."

"Poor baby," Rachel cooed. "I should go down there and spray the whole place down with Lysol." Quinn giggled, then shivered and pulled the blanket up over her face as she doubled over with a sharp sneeze, followed by another rattling cough. "Aww, honey! God bless you," Rachel fussed, smoothing Quinn's hair back and offering her the tissues from the desk. "Here, let's get you out of this musty old study and into bed where you belong, and I'll bring you some nice hot tea, hmm?"

"No way, I'm not getting my gross germs all over our bed so you can catch it too," Quinn shook her head weakly. "I'm_…*sniff!*…_I'm sleeping in here."

"Don't be ridiculous, Quinn, you are most certainly not sleeping in your study. It's cramped and dusty and entirely inappropriate for your needs while you are sick. Besides, I've already been exposed to whatever germs you're currently harboring, so there's no point in martyring yourself over it. Now come to bed."

"Yes dear," Quinn mumbled sarcastically; but she had a weary smile on her pale face as she climbed off the couch and let her girlfriend take her to bed.


	15. Mazel Tov

Hey Faberry fans! Are you psyched there's only another week and a half till season 3 comes on the air? Have you seen the pics of punk!Quinn? I'm pretty much beside myself with, well, glee. And as a few astute readers have pointed out, I did indeed foreshadow Quinn's pink hair in chapter 42 of TMAIA...kinda makes me wonder who from the show is out there reading fanfic!

Anyway, you can expect one more chap of this summer interlude before the show comes back on; and after that, I'll be starting a new story for TMAIA season 3. Hope you'll all enjoy!

NB: here is some Jewish vocab you will need to know for this chap—

**Bimah** is the hebrew word for altar (the front of the sanctuary where the rabbi or priest would stand in a church or synagogue)

**Kiddush **is the blessing over bread & wine, followed by a festive snack or light meal, after the service on Shabbat or any holiday or lifecycle celebration

**Ark** is the special cabinet on the Bimah where the Torah (Hebrew Bible) is kept

…...

**Snapshots: Mazel Tov**

**February 2025**

…...

_"Mommy! Mamaaaa!"_ Zoe's sobs echoed loudly down the darkened hall until Quinn's familiar outline appeared in the five-year-old's doorway, snapping on the little rocketship lamp on the nightstand and slipping into the bed to cuddle her crying child. Zoe immediately locked her arms and legs around her mother's warm body, sobbing desperately into her hair and clinging to her in terror from the remnants of a vivid nightmare.

"Shh, little bug, Mommy's here," Quinn cooed softly, rocking her little one gently and kissing the top of her head. "It was just a bad dream, sweet baby...you're safe and sound now, shh..."

"I d-dreamed about the bad hunter again," Zoe moaned into Quinn's shoulder, wiping her tear-streaked little face into the cool fabric of her mom's pajama top. "He shot Bambi and Thumper and, and _all _the baby rabbits!" The little girl hiccuped and began to wail again.

"It was all just a dream inside your head, honey. It wasn't real," Quinn sighed, feeling a fresh stab of annoyance with her mother for showing her five-year-old the movie that had made her wake up screaming for three consecutive nights now. Sure, it was rated G; but frankly Quinn thought (and Rachel agreed) that rating was insane. What parent wanted their preschooler to see adorable cartoon animals being traumatized and gunned down?

"I wanna sleep with _you_," Zoe sniffled when her tears finally began to slow, after a few minutes of Quinn's soft humming and rubbing her little girl's shaking back.

"Honey, we talked about this last night. You can't sleep in our bed right now, the baby will just wake you up again. She wakes up every two hours to eat, remember?"

"_Mommyyyyy..._it's not fair," Zoe whined, cranky and exhausted as she lifted her head from Quinn's shoulder to level her mother with a deeply reproachful gaze in her teary hazel eyes. "I need you too!"

"Well you've got me, baby, I'm right here," Quinn cooed, smoothing the child's sleep-mussed auburn hair back off her face and dropping a soft kiss on her forehead. "Do you want me to sing you a lullaby to help you have good dreams, bug?"

"_Mama_ sing. You cuddle," Zoe instructed sleepily, putting her face back down in the hollow of Quinn's throat with a soft sniffle.

"Aww, honey, not tonight okay? Mama's so exhausted, and she just got Charlie back to sleep. Can we let her sleep this time, hmm my love? We have a very big day tomorrow with Charlotte's special naming ceremony at temple, and we don't want Mama to be tired and cranky. Besides, I think I can sing _and_ cuddle you at the same time..."

"Nooooo," Zoe whined, fresh tears welling up as she kicked her pillow crankily. "I want Mama! Why does the stupid baby get everything? All she does is cry and poop!"

"Shh, honey...you're just cranky because it's so late and you're very, very sleepy. It's not Charlotte's fault. Everything we do for her, we did for you when _you_ were a baby, too. And now you're our big helper, aren't you?"

_"No…_not a helper…_I'm_ the baby…" Zoe's cranky whimpers of protest slowed when Quinn began softly singing to her.

_Golden slumber kiss your eyes,  
>Smiles await you when you rise.<br>Sleep,  
>pretty baby,<br>Do not cry,  
>And I'll sing you a lullaby.<em>

_Care you know not,  
>Therefore sleep,<br>While I o'er you watch do keep.  
>Sleep,<br>pretty darling,  
>Do not cry,<br>And I will sing a lullaby._

When Zoe's breathing turned soft and even against her neck, Quinn laid her little girl's limp body back down against the pillow, tucking her favorite stuffed monster in beside her and pulling the covers up snugly around her before leaning down to give her sleeping child one final kiss.

"Fucking Bambi," the blonde sighed wearily as she slipped from her daughter's bedroom.

When she got back to her own room, Quinn was pleased to find her wife peacefully sleeping, with their three-week-old baby curled up angelically in her little bassinet beside the bed. Even though Charlotte had her own room, they hadn't used it much yet as her periods of actual sleep were so brief. Plus, Rachel was so exhausted when she got up to feed her in the night, she kept tripping over her own feet on the short trip down the hallway and falling on her face. For now, this arrangement was the only way they could hope to get anything resembling an acceptable amount of sleep on a daily basis. With a woozy yawn, Quinn crawled quietly back into bed, curling up against her little starlet's warm back with a soft sigh of contentment.

"Mmm…why're you up? Zoe have another nightmare?" Rachel murmured groggily, rolling over to nuzzle up to Quinn like a life-sized teddy bear.

"Shh, go back to sleep starlight. Zoe's fine."

"Gonna send your mom the therapy bill…shouldn't let her watch Disney movies anymore…"

"She's fine, honey," Quinn yawned, running her fingers absently through Rachel's silky hair as a powerful wave of exhaustion rolled over her; and she closed her eyes in utter submission. "Just go to sleep…big day tomorrow…"

"Mm-hmm," Rachel agreed blearily, sounding mostly asleep already as yawned and slipped her hand under Quinn's pajama top to rest against the smooth, warm skin of her stomach. "Big day for Bambi…blow up all the hunters so the bunnies won't cry…" Quinn chuckled softly to herself before sleep swept over her and claimed her completely.

….

In the morning, Charlotte was colicky and Zoe was cranky and uncooperative. It didn't help matters when the baby spit up on the brand new dress that her sister had picked out especially for today, forcing her to change at the last minute into one of her many other adorable (but not new) dresses for temple. Then Zoe refused to eat breakfast, and Quinn burned herself with the curling iron, and a frazzled Rachel burst into tears just as they were about to leave, proclaiming that she was too fat from her pregnancy to stand up on the bimah in front of the entire congregation anyway.

Mercifully, their parents' arrival from the hotel interrupted the family freak-out just in time; and Rachel's dads and Quinn's stepfather swooped in and scooped up their grandchildren while Judy steered the overwrought new moms to the spacious master bathroom for a few minutes of much-needed girl time to calm their nerves. In the end, they were only slightly late to the synagogue service where baby Charlotte would be formally given her Hebrew name, Aviva Nitza, "spring bud."

The ceremony was beautiful, and Rachel's dads and Quinn's mom and stepdad all cried, just as they had at Zoe's naming ceremony five years previous. The preschooler in question was the only one not smiling on the bimah; she pouted and kept her face pressed to her Grandpa Jacob's leg the whole time, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Quinn and Rachel both knew a conversation would be necessary later to unpack their preschooler's uncharacteristic bad temper, but for now they let her be, focusing instead on the special lifecycle moment with their newborn.

After the service came the festive Kiddush in the social hall, with bagels and real cream cheese as well as an assortment of vegan spreads and hummus, cakes and cookies for the kids, and wine for the adults. Zoe took a cookie and hid behind the ark, waiting for someone to miss her and come find her, ideally one of her parents. But as the minutes ticked by and no one came looking for her, the little girl's outlook became bleaker and gloomier; and no one saw her sneak into the coat room, take her own coat and a small wad of cash from Rachel's purse, and slip out the heavy double doors to the chilly February street.

Fifteen minutes later, she was at Brittany and Santana's front door. "Hey Z," Santana said in obvious surprise when she found the five-year-old standing on her stoop unaccompanied, with a yellow cab pulling away from the curb behind her. "What're you doing here all by yourself? Do your moms know where you are?"

"They don't care," Zoe sighed dramatically as she waltzed past Santana liked she owned the place. The Latina watched her go with a small smirk of amusement, recognizing how much of Rachel was in Zoe even if they didn't share any DNA. She followed after the little girl into the spacious brownstone, watching her climb onto the couch beside a surprised Brittany, who was doing the monthly payroll accounting for her dance company. The blonde looked up at her wife, who just shrugged bemusedly.

"Hey little duck, what's up? Does anyone know you're here?"

"Mommy and Mama don't want me anymore," the child announced melodramatically, "so I'm going to live with you now. And we'll make a super-secret clubhouse for big kids only, and no babies allowed."

"Ohhh," Santana nodded knowingly, as she sat down on Zoe's other side with a little smile of understanding. "I get it. This is about your little sister, huh?"

"She's _not _my sister, she's just a dumb little squishy stink bomb. Mommy and Mama can keep her, and I'll be _your_ baby. You love me, don't you?"

"Of course we love you, Z," Santana grinned with a little shake of her head, smoothing a windswept lock of wavy auburn hair back from the child's rosy cheek. "But I don't think your moms will let us keep you. They love you too, you know. More than anything in the world."

"Not more than dumb baby stink-butt," Zoe grumbled, leaning her head against Brittany, who sensed the child's need for reassurance and scooped her into her lap, wrapping both arms snugly around her little body. Zoe sighed and leaned back against Brittany's chest.

"You really think your moms can only love one kid at a time, noodle?" Santana asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically at Zoe's determined pout.

"Yes," Zoe grumbled, running her fingers absently over Brittany's hands.

"Well in that case, they won't care when I call them and tell them you ran away to live with us, huh?" Zoe just shrugged. Santana shared a quick _here goes nothing_ look with Brittany, and picked up the phone to dial Quinn's cell.

"Hey Q, are you missing something? Like, your firstborn?"

…..

When Quinn and Rachel arrived at Brittany and Santana's twenty minutes later, they were both pale and shaking, and barely even managed to acknowledge their friends as they ran to reclaim their daughter. Rachel scooped her off the couch and immediately burst into tears, and Quinn wrapped her arms around them both, one hand automatically checking her little girl's body for any signs of injury.

"Don't you _ever_ run away like that again, do you understand?" Rachel demanded, her voice anguished as she locked eyes with her little girl, who was looking back at her with frank astonishment. "We thought something _awful_ had happened to you! We thought someone came and stole you away from us! Do you have _any_ idea how scared we were?"

"I didn't think you'd care," Zoe shrugged quietly, looking down at her hands as she played absentmindedly with a lock of Rachel's hair.

"Baby, how could you _ever_ think that?" Quinn asked in bewilderment, wiping a stray tear from her little girl's rosy cheek.

"Where's Charlie?" Zoe suddenly asked, sounding genuinely alarmed as she looked around in abrupt realization.

"She's with your grandparents," Quinn answered reassuringly, noting that it was the first time since her nightmares had begun that Zoe referred to her little sister by name, and not as _the dumb baby_. "Honey, just because we have a new baby, doesn't for a second change how much Mama and I love _you._ Nothing will _ever_ change that, do you understand?"

"I'm sorry," Zoe whimpered, beginning to cry in earnest as she burrowed her face into Rachel's neck and wailed.

"Shh, it's okay noodle," Rachel murmured, sitting down weakly on the couch as her knees began to tremble. "Everything's okay, my love..." Quinn sat down beside them, and Zoe rolled over to cuddle against her, pulling Rachel's hand over her shoulder so she kept solid contact with both her parents.

"Sorry I messed up Charlie's special day at temple," Zoe sniffled softly after a few minutes had gone by, rubbing her red eyes as Brittany and Santana came and sat beside them on the couch, with a tray holding tea for the adults and a child-sized cup of hot cocoa for Zoe.

"You didn't mess anything up, honey," Quinn reassured her, smiling gratefully when Brittany passed her a mug of hot tea. "And she won't even remember, anyway. I'm just sorry you felt sad enough to think running away was the answer. Promise me, the next time you feel this sad about anything, you'll come and tell us, okay? There is nothing on this _earth_ more important to me or Mama than taking care of you and your sister, no matter what else is going on."

"I promise," Zoe nodded quietly, taking a little sip of the cocoa Santana passed her.

_"What_ did you say?" Rachel asked, cocking her head and raising an eyebrow in an exaggerated way, as if she were hard of hearing.

"I promise I won't run away again," Zoe giggled, patting Rachel's cheek reassuringly. "Can we go home and see the baby now? I miss her. She isn't really stinky."

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," Rachel agreed with a weary smile. "Now give your aunties a big hug for keeping you safe for us, munchkin, and let's all go home."

That night, Quinn made chocolate chip-peanut butter pancakes for dinner, and after they put Charlotte down for her evening nap, they had a "Zoe's choice" movie night and made a blanket fort in the living room, where all three of them slept on an assortment of pillows and couch cushions, and the preschooler fell asleep listening to _both_ her moms sing her a lullaby.

And she didn't have any more nightmares.


	16. White Christmas

Hey Faberry fans! Here's the last installment of the snapshot series…for now. I'm not quite ready to close the book on this story just yet; you never know when there will be a break (hopefully short, but you never really know) from the show in real time, so I'm just going to keep this story open…and I'll certainly come back to it when Glee is off the air! So, enjoy, and get psyched for Glee season 3 TOMORROW! (And of course for a new season of my epic faberry tale, "Take Me As I Am." Look for it sometime in the next week!)

Peace,

-JW

…...

**Snapshots: White Christmas**

**December 2026**

…...

"Grandma, look! It's snowing!" Zoe cried in excitement, racing to the windowsill and pressing her face to the cool glass, immediately steaming up the clear pane with her breath.

"I see! I see snow!" Two-year-old Charlotte demanded impatiently, tugging on Zoe's pants until the seven-year-old picked her baby sister up around her middle and hoisted her up to the windowsill, to look out at the fat white snowflakes drifting lazily down over the frozen lake. "Oooh," Charlie sighed, swinging her feet contentedly around Zoe's knees. "Pretty snow."

"Well it looks like Santa wanted us to have a white Christmas this year, hmm girls?" Judy smiled with a little wink from the kitchen island, dusting her floury hands off on her apron and picking up a rolling pin to roll out a fresh batch of sugar cookie dough.

"We know Santa's not real, Grandma," Zoe rolled her eyes with a knowing little smirk, much to Judy's horror. "But we can pretend if it'll make you feel better."

"Down, Zoe," Charlotte commanded, kicking her little feet until her sister placed her gently back on the floor. "Cookie, Gramma!" The toddler ran from her sister to her grandmother, holding out her hands expectantly for one of the Christmas cookies cooling on the rack beside the stove.

"Just one more before dinner, pumpkin, or you'll spoil your appetite," Judy smiled indulgently, picking a cookie with a festive iced star in the center and handing it to the excited two-year-old, who immediately tried to cram the whole thing into her mouth at once.

"Me too?" Zoe asked, following her little sister to get a still-warm cookie from her grandmother's well-stocked tray.

"Well _these _cookies are only for children who believe in Santa," Judy said in a very serious voice, holding out a cookie to her oldest grandchild with an expectant arch of her brow, which Zoe returned with interest.

"Aw, come on," Zoe groaned, cocking her head to the side and regarding her grandmother impatiently. "I said we could pretend if you want. I'm not a baby anymore, you know. Besides, our family _is_ half Jewish. We know Santa's just make-believe. But I still like Christmas cookies!"

"Oh, all right, my little urban hipster," Judy sighed, shaking her head with a little smirk as she handed over the coveted cookie. "Now go get your moms to come help me set the table, hmm? And then you can take your sister outside to play in the snow before dinner if you want."

"'Kay," Zoe agreed with her mouth full of cookie, skipping down the hall to find her parents, her little sister tagging along behind her and singing a garbled version of Jingle Bells that carried throughout the first floor of the house. "Mommy, Mama!" Zoe called when she found Quinn and Rachel curled up on the couch in front of a roaring fire, cuddling sleepily in the warm glow. "Grandma wants you to help set the table."

"Okay, baby," Rachel yawned, opening her arms as both kids climbed onto the couch to nuzzle between their parents.

"I think Grandma can wait another minute," Quinn murmured, pulling Charlotte up into her lap and curling her legs in to make a secure nest for the kids between her and Rachel. "I just need a little cuddle with my girls to make my Christmas Eve perfect..."

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle allawaaaay," Charlie sang softly, nestling her head contentedly against Quinn's chest. Zoe giggled at her little sister's goofy singing, and pressed the pads of their sock-covered feet together, kicking playfully until Charlie was laughing too hard to sing anymore.

"Well isn't that a pretty picture," Jacob sighed from the doorway, with Michael leaning over his shoulder, both of them beaming as Jacob raised his camera expectantly. "Everyone smile and say _white Christmas!_" Plenty used to having their picture taken under far more formal circumstances, the four Berry girls obediently smiled up at the camera, until Charlie lifted her arms and demanded to be taken outside to play.

Jacob and Michael bundled the kids up and took them outside to make Christmas snow angels, while Quinn and Rachel went to help Judy set the table; and Tom, Judy's husband, took over the last shift of kitchen duty for his wife. By the time they all sat down to Christmas dinner, the table was groaning under the weight of the enormous, festive meal, and despite their holiday excitement (or maybe because of it), both kids were half-asleep before the pumpkin pie was served.

"Mommy, story," Charlie demanded sleepily as Quinn finished zipping her into her little footy pajamas, preparing to tuck her into bed.

"Yeah, a _true_ story," Zoe added from her bed on the other side of the nightstand, where Rachel was cuddling up beside her and pulling up the blankets snugly around the seven-year-old. "Tell us a story about when you and Mama were little."

"Hmm, you want a real life story, my little dumplings?" Quinn raised an eyebrow, looking over the kids' heads at Rachel, who was grinning softly back at her.

"Yeah. But not one with kissing, okay?"

"Okay, miss fussypants," Quinn chuckled, slipping into bed with Charlotte and cuddling her close as she thought of the perfect Christmas story to tell her kids. "Once upon a time, when Mama and I were just little girls like you..."

"Did you already like each other then?" Zoe asked, turning on her side toward the sound of Quinn's voice, and pulling Rachel's arm snugly around her middle to burrow into her warmth.

"Well, yes, we did like each other...but we didn't really know it," Quinn smirked, with a little wink for Rachel, who chuckled in response.

"Why Mama laugh?" Charlie asked drowsily, snuggling down against her pillow with a soft yawn.

"Nothing, honey," Rachel waved a hand dismissively. "It's just funny, because back then Mommy was trying really hard to pretend she _didn't_ like me, so just I pretended I didn't like her either. I knew I liked _her_, and she knew she liked _me_; but somehow we still didn't really get it."

"You should've just both stopped pretending," Zoe yawned, patting Rachel's hand sleepily. "Then you wouldn't hafta wait till you were grown up to be in love."

"Well you're a much smarter kid than we were, sweetie pie," Quinn smirked, leaning her head in her hand as she settled in to tell her story. "So, once upon a time when Mama and I were little, and it was almost Christmas time in Ohio..."

…..

_**December 2002**_

Eight-year-old Rachel Berry was not wearing her usual gold star smile when her daddy picked her up from school on the last day before Christmas vacation. That would have been a red flag even on a normal day, but considering that it was the beginning of school vacation _and_ the first night of Hanukkah, Michael was more than a little worried when his little girl climbed into the car with the gloomiest expression he'd seen her wear since she found out there was no Oscar category for Best Actress in a Movie-Musical.

"Hey miss thing, why the long face? It's officially Christmas vacation and we're leaving for Grandma Sadie's in the morning!"

"I'm sorry Daddy, but I'm not exactly in the holiday spirit right now," Rachel sighed, buckling her seatbelt and staring morosely out the window. "We had our school Christmas party today, and I made special candy cane cupcakes for my whole class, and not one person even gave me a card. Everybody hates me."

"Aw, sweetheart, that's not true," Michael shook his head, reaching across the seat to give her shoulder a little squeeze. "You're just so special and amazing, they don't quite know what to make of you in this cow-town. And you're at an age now where kids just want to fit in, and anything that _doesn't_ fit in makes them all a little nervous. I'm sorry, honey."

"It won't matter once I'm a star on Broadway," Rachel sighed dismissively, staring out the window and swinging her small legs over the seat.

"That's right," Michael agreed bracingly, ruffling her hair with a little wink of encouragement. "Wanna hear some Barbra to cheer you up, pumpkin?" Without waiting for an answer, Michael popped the Funny Girl soundtrack into the CD player, and father and daughter both sang along, smiling the rest of the way home.

"What's _that?"_ Rachel asked when they got home, staring at the small brown parcel sitting neatly in the center of her place setting at the kitchen table. It was addressed to her, in childish but neat block letters, and there was no return address.

"It's a new car," Jacob said sarcastically, but with a little smile as he looked up from where he stood chopping vegetables for dinner at the kitchen island.

"Don't quit your day job, Mr. Comedian," little Rachel said with a huff, crossing her arms impatiently.

"Sorry hon," Jacob smiled wryly, drying his hands off on a dish towel and kissing his husband hello. "It's a package for you, obviously. Looks like a Christmas present. And no return address means that _you,_ young lady, may have yourself a secret admirer."

"It's probably a box of dog poop or something," Rachel grumbled, sitting down at the table and prodding tentatively at the brown paper package, as if half-expecting it to explode on contact.

"What's with the grumpypuss routine?" Jacob asked in confusion, genuinely surprised at his daughter's less than enthusiastic response to the mystery gift.

"Bad day at school," Michael explained, while Rachel leaned in and sniffed the box experimentally.

"Aw, sorry kiddo. Do you want a glass of water?" Jacob asked kindly, going over to where his daughter sat examining her package, and giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"That's okay Dad. But, will you open it for me? Just in case it's something mean?"

"Sure, honey." Jacob kissed the top of Rachel's head and sat beside her at the table with a small sigh. He wanted to tell her to have a positive attitude, that it was sure to be a Christmas gift from a classmate, and nothing more…but he knew better than to assume the best of this hick town, and if there _was_ some cruel practical joke for his child waiting in this box, he wanted to spare her if he could. But when the brown paper fell away and the box was opened, all that was revealed was a small, ornately carved, eight-pointed gold star pin with little jewels (rhinestones, presumably) shooting out between each point. Rachel gasped and grabbed it out of her father's hands.

"Well that's certainly not dog poop," Michael observed over his husband's shoulder, beaming. "Looks like someone in your class wants you to have a merry Christmas after all, pumpkin. Is there a card?" Rachel pulled the small package from Jacob's hand, ripping the rest of the paper off to find a small, folded note, printed out on computer paper so there was no handwriting to trace. She unfolded the little square of paper and read aloud:

"Dear Rachel, I couldn't give you this at school because I'm not allowed to be friends with you. Sorry, I hope it makes you feel a little better to know you have a secret admirer who thinks you are awesome and wants you to have the best Christmas ever. I know you like gold stars, so I got you this pin, I hope you like it. And when you wear it, remember that you are a star! Merry Christmas.

Love,

your secret admirer."

Rachel read the letter through twice more, sure it must be a mistake or a practical joke. But she couldn't find a punchline, and if it were a mistake (like, the post office sent it to the wrong kid by accident) then it wouldn't be addressed to Rachel Berry. Plus, how many kids in Lima, Ohio were obsessed with gold stars? The only logical conclusion the eight-year-old's brain could draw was that it really was an honest to goodness Christmas present, from an honest to goodness secret admirer. Beaming, she fastened the little pin to the front of her pink plaid jumper, and wore it every day for the rest of vacation.

…..

"…Holy crap, that was _you?_" Rachel murmured, looking, Quinn thought, entirely too surprised at this revelation as they finished tucking in their children, now fast asleep, and kissed them both on their rosy cheeks.

"Of course it was me," Quinn snickered with a little snort of delight. "It really took you twenty-four years to put that one together, genius?"

"Well I just hadn't thought of it in so long, I guess the whole thing slipped my mind," Rachel shrugged, snaking an arm around Quinn's waist and leaning into her shoulder as they made their way back downstairs for hot mulled wine around the fireplace with their parents. "You always were a closet romantic, weren't you?"

"Only for you," Quinn winked, kissing Rachel playfully on the end of her nose. Rachel giggled and blushed delightedly. "What ever happened to that pin, anyway? I never saw you wear it to school."

"Yeah, that's because it was summarily eaten by my grandmother's neighbors' Rottweiler on the last day of vacation. I cried so much, she had to promise to take me to see Wicked, which had only just opened on Broadway, before I would stop."

"Aww," Quinn giggled, slipping her hand over Rachel's on her hip and lacing their fingers together. "And all these years, I thought you had turned your nose up at my attempts at secret-admiration."

"Thank goodness we finally found out the truth, so we can put the ghosts of Christmas past to rest, huh?" Rachel teased, leaning up on her tiptoes to give Quinn a long, slow, thorough kiss at the top of the stairs. "That's for always being my angel, even when I didn't know it."

"I always will be," Quinn smiled, pressing their foreheads together for one final kiss before they rejoined their parents in the living room. "Merry Christmas, little star."

"Merry Christmas, angel."


	17. Ghost Stories

Hey all! Thanks for all the awesome feedback on this story, as well as the new season of TMAIA. It turns out that it's a good thing I left this story open…I am still in non-linear mode, it would seem! So here's another little snippet from the future of Faberry. Enjoy!

-JW

…..

**Snapshots: Ghost Stories**

**Labor Day Weekend**

**September 2031**

…...

Quinn expertly balanced a tray of hot chocolate and oatmeal cookies as she slipped through the sliding glass door that lead to the backyard of her spacious beach house. At the top of the hill, just above the spot where the grass gave way to sand was a small red and blue tent, pitched next to a sign that said _Jungle Safari Outpost_ in large, childish letters.

"Knock knock," Quinn called as she unzipped the flap on the tent, so as not to alarm the kids. "Any explorers in here interested in hot chocolate?"

"Thanks, Mommy," Six-year-old Charlotte grinned eagerly, jumping up from her sleeping bag and reaching for her favorite cookie monster cup.

"Mom, you're ruining it," Zoe scowled in disapproval, crossing her arms over her chest with a classic Berry pout. "_Real_ explorers don't have their moms bring them hot chocolate when they're on a jungle expedition."

"I like hot chocolate," Parker said innocently as he reached for a cup, blowing carefully on the surface before taking a sip. "Thanks Auntie Quinn."

"Well if Zoe doesn't want any, I guess I'll just take this last cup back into the house with me..." Quinn gave the younger kids an exaggerated wink, and turned to leave the tent.

"Wait! I just remembered chocolate comes from South America. It was discovered by the ancient Aztecs," The eleven-year-old exclaimed officiously, jumping up and grabbing the last cup from the tray before Quinn could take it away. "So I guess we could've found a _real_ cocoa plant on our jungle expedition and made this ourselves. It's jungle cocoa," Zoe concluded triumphantly, nodding to herself before she took a sip. "Mmm."

"Ahem." Quinn raised an eyebrow expectantly at her oldest child. Zoe sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Thanks Mom."

"You're welcome. Now is everybody warm enough? Should we bring out a few more blankets from the house?"

"No, we're good, you can go now," Zoe said impatiently, settling back down with her cocoa.

"No, not yet! I want a lullaby," Charlie whined, to which Zoe huffed and rolled her eyes at her little sister.

"Charlie, jungle explorers _don't _have bedtime lullabies," the eleven-year-old explained importantly.

"Well just pretend they do," Charlie huffed back, glowering at her older sister's patronizing expression.

"No, that's stupid! Don't be such a baby."

"I am _not_ a baby!" Charlotte shrieked, her face flushing pink and screwing up with pre-tantrum emotion.

"Okay, everybody chill," Quinn said sharply, sitting down on the nearest sleeping bag and pulling her trembling six-year-old into her lap. "How about a story instead of a song? Lots of grownup explorers tell stories around the fire on camping trips."

"A _ghost_ story. A scary one," Zoe agreed, brightening as she climbed back into her sleeping bag and looked up at Quinn expectantly.

"Is that okay with you guys?" Quinn asked the younger children, already racking her brains for an appropriate ghost story that wouldn't be _too_ scary for the little ones.

"Yeah, tell us a scary story, Auntie Quinn," Parker nodded happily, hugging his stuffed monkey and taking another little sip of cocoa as he settled down to listen. Charlotte leaned back in Quinn's arms and pulled her sleeping bag over her lap, and Zoe settled down on her stomach, looking up expectantly.

"Okay," Quinn nodded slowly, looking each of them in the eye with what she hoped was just the right amount of mystery. "There once was a valley that was said to be the quietest place in the world. It was just off the eastern shore of the Hudson River, not far from here, in fact. For as long as anyone could remember, it had been called Sleepy Hollow..."

….

When Quinn finally came back inside the house with the empty tray of cocoa cups, she found Rachel scowling into the large mirror over the mantle, looking at her face from every angle in her brand-new black framed reading glasses. "I look like a secretary from the 1950's," the dark-haired starlet announced with a dramatic groan, throwing herself onto the couch.

"You look like a hot librarian in a playboy centerfold," Quinn disagreed, shaking her head playfully. "I _love_ your new glasses, so stop trash-talking them."

"Really?" Rachel asked, her cheeks flushing pleasurably as she took in her wife's expression of unabashed lust.

"Mm-hmm," Quinn nodded, smirking, as she put her empty tray down on the coffee table and curled up next to Rachel on the couch, and kissing her softly. "And I _really_ love that I'm basically the only one who gets to see them, since you only wear them at night...it makes me feel like I'm in a super-secret VIP club. Observing Rachel Berry in her natural habitat."

"You sound like the kids on their jungle safari," Rachel snorted, with a little grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Everything okay out there?"

"Yep, they're all tucked in for the night. We are officially alone in the house for the rest of the evening." Quinn wiggled her eyebrows, and Rachel burst out laughing.

"Subtle, babe. I'm not sure what you're getting at, really."

"Shut up and get upstairs, and I'll show you just how much I love those sexy reading glasses on you, vixen." Quinn nipped playfully at Rachel's bottom lip, and ran for the stairs. Rachel growled appreciatively, and scrambled off the couch to follow her.

…...

"Okay...I guess I'll keep the glasses," Rachel sighed wantonly, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head with a deep yawn of exhaustion.

"Damn straight," Quinn agreed with a sleepy smile of satisfaction, that turned into a frown when the dark-haired diva slipped out of bed and began retrieving her pajamas from around the room. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"Just making sure I'm not naked when the explorer's society comes barreling back in here at the butt-crack of dawn," Rachel sighed, giving Quinn a little wink as she pulled the soft cotton tank top back over her head. "You know they're gonna be up before us, and the _last_ thing I need is an earful of Kurt squealing about how we traumatized his only son with our naked lady parts."

"But I _like_ sleeping naked," Quinn pouted, sticking out her lower lip petulantly as Rachel threw her pajamas at her. "And soon it'll be too cold out. This may be our last chance."

"Well I like sleeping naked too," Rachel sighed, climbing back on top of Quinn and kissing her sleepily. "But not when we have a strong likelihood of early morning interruptus by the kid brigade. I'd have thought _you'd_ be the one telling _me_ to be more sensible in this area, little miss manners."

"Mm, well, I just like to keep you on your toes," Quinn giggled sleepily, followed by a long, drawn-out yawn.

"Mm-hmm. My toes, and all the rest of me, are at your whim," Rachel chuckled, settling down with her head in the curve of Quinn's throat, stroking the soft skin over her wife's bare stomach. They lay like that for a few minutes, teetering on the edge of sleep, until a crash, a slam, and a shriek from the first floor made them both sit bolt upright in dazed alarm.

"What was that?" Quinn asked blearily, rubbing her eyes.

"That was three kids running up the stairs, Lady Godiva! Put your clothes on!" Rachel threw Quinn's nightshirt at her again, and Quinn scrambled to put it on so fast that she fell out of bed, just as Zoe, Charlie and Parker all came running into the bedroom wailing about ghosts and headless horsemen.

"I don't wanna be a headless horseman! I need my head!" Charlotte moaned, diving under the covers and attaching herself to Rachel's leg. Zoe and Parker were close behind, so that by the time Quinn picked herself up off the floor, there was hardly room for her to squeeze back into bed with her wife and the three trembling kids.

"Aw, jellyfish! What's the matter, love? Did you have a bad dream?" Rachel asked, stroking Charlotte's silky hair under the covers.

"We were scared of the headless horseman from the story," Parker sniffled, and even Zoe was now hiding under the covers and whimpering in agreement.

"We heard him galloping around looking for heads," the eleven-year-old agreed with a whine of terror.

"What are you talking about, honey? What story?" Rachel asked gently, frowning as she looked from one freaked out kid to the other. Then she fixed her gaze on her sheepish-looking wife, who was biting her lip with an unmistakable expression of guilt. "Quinn, you _didn't_ tell them a scary story out there, did you?"

"They _asked_ for one!" Quinn groaned, flopping back down in the bed and attempting to console all three kids simultaneously. "I'm sorry, you guys, I didn't think it would freak you out this much. You know it's just make-believe, right? It's not real."

"Yeah, just keep talking, madam storyteller," Rachel huffed, though Quinn saw a little smirk of amusement twitch at the corner of her mouth. "What, were there no good axe-murder stories left in your repetoire?"

"Mama, sing a lullaby," Charlie begged, her head popping out of the covers with a glazed look of hysterical exhaustion. "Make the headless horseman run away."

"Okay, honey, calm down and take a deep breath…" Rachel stroked her daughter's sleep-mussed brown hair, and Quinn kissed the older two on their foreheads and pulled the blankets up around them snugly. Rachel began softly singing Puff the Magic Dragon, and within a few minutes, all three hysterical kids were deeply asleep again. In Quinn and Rachel's bed.

"So, um…where are we supposed to sleep now?" Quinn asked quietly, over Parker's surprisingly loud snoring, considering he was just seven years old.

"Maybe you should've thought about that before you traumatized our children at bedtime," Rachel said in a mock-stern voice, as Quinn groaned and buried her head in the pillow (or, the very edge of the pillow that was left for her).

"Rach, I'm sorry. They wanted a ghost story. I always loved ghost stories when _I _was a kid. I didn't know they'd be such wusses about it." Rachel lifted her head and snickered a little at Quinn's impish expression in the semi-darkness.

"Yeah, well, lesson learned. Aren't you glad I made us get our clothes back on now?"

"So, so glad," Quinn agreed sleepily, with another soft yawn. "C'mon, I'm not spending the rest of the night getting kicked by six little feet. Let's go sleep in Zoe's bed."

"Mm-hmm…let's go, dumbass." Rachel chuckled, and Quinn kicked her sleepily as they stumbled down the hall to sleep in the kids' room. There would be no more ghost stories in the Berry house until both kids were in college.


	18. Beth's Breakout

Hey Faberry fans!

Teenage Beth was feeling left out, so she decided it was time to make an appearance these snapshots. Hope y'all enjoy. And after tonight's episode airs, be on the lookout for an update in TMAIA later this week!

Cheers,

-JW

…

**Snapshots: Beth's Breakout**

**October 2026**

….

Baby Charlotte was gurgling in her swinging kitchen seat, her big brown eyes trained on Rachel's swift, even chopping motions as she cut up a bunch of fresh carrots and slid them into the bubbling pot of miso soup simmering on the stove.

"Gah!" Charlotte squawked, shaking her microphone-shaped rattle and then cramming it into her mouth.

"Mmm, smells good, doesn't it baby?" Rachel cooed to her ten-month-old. "We're gonna make your sister feel all better, aren't we?" The baby grunted, threw her rattle down on the floor, and began to wail.

"Aww, what's the matter Charlie girl? Are you teething, hmm baby?" Rachel sighed, wiping her hands off on a dish towel and unstrapping her baby from the rocking seat to soothe her. "Shh, honey, I know, I know…do you want a frozen bagel to gnaw on, hmm?" Rachel swung the freezer open and began searching for the stash of frozen bagels she'd prepared specifically for this purpose, gently rocking her howling baby on her hip.

_"__Mamaaaaa,__"_ Five-year-old Zoe wailed miserably from down the hall. "My ear hurts, I need you!"

"Shit," Rachel sighed under her breath, releasing a puff of frosty condensation as she leaned her head against the ice cube tray for a moment. "I'm coming, Zo!" she called over her shoulder, grabbing a prized frozen bagel and offering it to the hiccupping baby as she hurried down the hall, to where her older child was curled up sobbing on the couch in her pajamas.

"Mama, it hurts," Zoe wailed, flinging herself into Rachel's lap as soon as she sat down.

"Shh, I know bug, I'm right here," Rachel murmured, propping baby Charlotte up in the corner of the couch where she couldn't fall, and leaving her contentedly teething on her bagel for a moment while Rachel devoted her attention to her other child. "C'mere my big girl, I've got you…" Zoe buried her hot face in Rachel's neck as soon as she was scooped up, her sobs quieting slightly as her mama began to rock her and rub her back.

"I want more grape chewies," Zoe sniffled, referring to the Children's Tylenol she'd been getting to quiet the pain of her ear infection for the last few days.

"Aww, sweetie, it's a little too soon for more medicine. You can have more chewies after lunch, okay? I'm making you some nice miso soup to help you feel all better. Do you want a hot compress while you wait?" Rachel stroked her little girl's sleep-mussed hair back from her face, checking to see that her fever wasn't getting any worse.

"Yeah," Zoe whimpered miserably, putting her head back down on Rachel's chest. "Then tell me a story, 'kay?"

"Okay, baby," Rachel murmured, kissing the top of Zoe's head as she slipped the little girl off her lap and covered her back up with the fluffy blanket next to baby Charlotte. "You just hang tight with Charlie for a minute, and I'll be right back with the compress, okay bug?"

"Uhh…'kay," Zoe yawned. Then she closed her eyes, scrunched up her little freckled nose, and sneezed dazedly into Rachel's shirt.

"Honey, you've gotta cover up your sneezes," Rachel reprimanded gently, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table and hastily wiping her five-year-old's runny nose. "You don't want Charlie to get sick too, do you?" She hated to scold her child when she looked so miserable, but she _really_ didn't want the baby to catch it too. One sick kid and one teething baby was quite enough for one week, thank you very much.

She left both kids snuggled securely on the couch, and dashed back to the kitchen to get a dish towel for a hot compress, hastily turning off the flame under the half-done soup before it was ruined all together. She'd just wrung out the hot compress when she heard baby Charlotte start to wail again. With a soft groan, the dark-haired diva high-tailed it back to the den, gently pressing the warm towel to her kindergartener's painful ear before scooping up the shrieking baby, who had dropped her frozen bagel on the floor and was now completely hysterical.

"Okay baby, shh, okay," she hummed soothingly, rocking the baby on her hip.

"Mama, she's hurting my head," Zoe whined, wiping her nose on her hand with a cranky pout as she held the warm washcloth against her ear. "I don't want her in here."

"Okay, I'll take her in the kitchen," Rachel sighed, feeling her own head start to pound a little. "You just stay covered up on the couch and watch cartoons, bug. I'll bring you some soup once I get Charlie settled down."

Rachel got a new bagel for the baby, but little Charlie was wailing too hard now to put it in her mouth, keeping her locked in a loop of teething misery as she shrieked and kicked in Rachel's arms. "Stubborn baby, don't you see there's something here to make you feel better?" The little starlet moaned, finally breaking down and going for the last-resort teething cure: a tiny capful of whiskey, which she dipped her finger in and rubbed on the baby's gums. Finally Charlotte stopped wailing, and accepted the frozen bagel, gumming it enthusiastically as she hiccupped and sniffled. Rachel sighed in relief, and buckled the baby back into her swinging kitchen seat. She sang a soft tune to keep both Charlie and herself calm as she finished chopping up the rest of the veggies on the cutting board, adding them to Zoe's soup as it began to bubble again on the stove.

"There now, who's got the best mama in town, hmm baby?" Rachel cooed to her ten-month-old, who was now drooling contentedly on her partially defrosted bagel. While the baby was occupied, Rachel pulled a tray down from the cabinet and put out a sippy-cup of juice and a small bowl of the fresh soup for Zoe, along with a purple tablet of chewable Children's Tylenol. Just as she was about to bring it into the den, the in-house phone on the kitchen wall rang. With a sigh of annoyance, Rachel went to answer it, figuring that Quinn had gone on another online shopping spree for new photographic equipment.

"Hi Frank, what's up?" she said when she picked up the phone that went directly to the doorman.

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am, but there's a young lady here who wants to come up. She's not on my list, but she says she's family—Beth Morgan-Greene?"

"What?" Rachel yelped, almost dropping her tray in shock. "Yes, she's—well—yes, send her up. Is she all alone?"

"Yes ma'am, just the girl. I'll send her up right away." Rachel nodded dumbly, though she knew he couldn't see her.

"Thanks, Frank," she croaked out, dropping the phone back on the hook with a long, drawn out sigh of worry and exhaustion. "When it rains, it pours," she muttered to herself, putting her tray down and unsnapping baby Charlotte from her swing again as the doorbell rang. Before the harried young starlet had even the slightest chance to compose herself, there was sixteen-year-old Beth, standing on her doorstep.

"Um…hey, Rachel," the sixteen-year-old smiled sheepishly, with a little wave. She looked more like Quinn than ever as she grew into a young woman, with her shoulder-length blonde hair, hazel eyes, and ivory skin. It was more than a little unnerving. She also, Rachel noted, had an overnight bag on her shoulder. "Can I come in?"

"Do your dads know you're here?" Rachel asked bluntly, hoisting the baby up a little further on her hip. Beth cocked her head to the side and bit her lip, exactly the way Quinn did when she didn't want to answer something. "Oy," Rachel sighed. "Okay, get in here, you little juvenile delinquent." As she ushered the teenager into the spacious entryway of the penthouse apartment, Rachel could hear Zoe starting to cry again over the background noise of the cartoons playing in the den. "Shit. Would you mind taking the baby for a minute? Zoe's home with an ear infection, I just need to go check on her."

"Oh, yeah, totally. Hey little squirt, c'mere!" Beth reached out for baby Charlotte, who gurgled at her and patted the teenager's face with one hand, still gumming her bagel industriously. With a sigh of relief, Rachel hurried back to the kitchen and grabbed Zoe's tray, following the sound of her five-year-old's miserable whimpers back to the living room.

"Hey bug, look what I have for you," Rachel hummed soothingly, sitting beside her daughter on the couch and laying the tray across her lap.

"I can have more medicine now?" Zoe sniffed, leaning her head against Rachel's side and rubbing her red eyes on the back of her hand.

"Eat some soup first, baby. Then medicine," Rachel murmured, kissing the top of Zoe's auburn head as the child obediently picked up her spoon and began to eat the soup. "Good girl…" As Rachel sat stroking her daughter's hair, trying to decide how best to explain the unexpected visitor in the front hall, Beth appeared in the entryway of the room, holding the now-sleeping baby in her arms.

"Um, hi. Is there someplace I can put her down?" Beth asked awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other as she took in the tender family scene in front of her, obviously uncomfortable to be intruding.

"Oh my goodness, you got her to sleep? Thank you so much, Beth. You can put her down in her playpen in the corner there." Rachel nodded toward the gold star patterned playpen sitting unobtrusively in the corner of the living room, and Beth nodded, giving her a little half-smile before gently laying the sleeping baby down and tucking the blanket around her. Zoe sat silently watching the scene unfold until Beth stood up again, tucking a lock of blonde hair back behind her ear. The two hazel-eyed girls blinked silently at each other for a moment.

"You look like Mommy," Zoe said finally.

"That's because I'm your sister," Beth replied softly, crossing the room to sit in the armchair beside Rachel and Zoe.

"I know. You're Beth. I remember you." Zoe sniffled sleepily, blinking her heavy eyes at her teenage half-sister with a little yawn as she rested her head back against Rachel's side.

"You do?" Beth asked, obviously surprised.

"Uh-huh. You visited us at Gramma's house for Christmas when I was three. An' you have two daddies just like Mama."

"That's right," Beth nodded slowly, a reluctant smile spreading across her face. Quinn and Rachel had always made an effort to visit Beth a few times a year when she was little…but as they'd all gotten older, Beth got busier with school and teenage life, and Quinn and Rachel had started a family of their own; and in the last few years there hadn't been much contact outside of emails and Skype. The fact that Zoe remembered her big sister from the few visits they'd had together obviously meant a lot to the teenager. "Sorry you don't feel so good today, kiddo."

"Yeah. I have an ear infection," Zoe said gravely, rubbing woozily at her little button nose. "I have to cover my mouth so I don't sneeze all my germs on the baby."

"Bummer," Beth chuckled, tucking her feet up under her with a playful half-smirk, sending a jolt of recognition through Rachel as the teenager showed unmistakable flashes of Puck in her mannerisms, the way she nodded her head and smiled indulgently at the cranky child beside her.

"How come you visited us today?" Zoe asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

"Umm…no reason. I wanted to surprise your moms," Beth shrugged evasively, and Rachel was hugely relieved when Zoe accepted the answer at face value.

"Does Mommy know Beth is here, Mama?"

"Not yet, bug. We'll call her in a little bit. But finish your soup first, okay?"

"Uh-huh," Zoe yawned, picking up her spoon again. "Then I can show her my dollhouse…an' we can play Chutes an' Ladders…"

"Maybe a little later, honey. Right now you need to rest."

"No Mama, I'm all better now," Zoe shook her head sleepily. "I wanna play with Beth…"

"Actually, Zoe, I'm pretty tired too. It sure was a long trip from Ohio. Is it okay if I take a nap first, and then we can play?" Beth asked, with a tiny wink for Rachel.

"Oh…okay," Zoe sighed, rubbing her eyes again. Rachel mouthed a silent _thank__you_ to Beth as she popped the little grape tablet into the five-year-old's mouth, and Zoe obediently chewed it up and swallowed. "First we'll do board games…then coloring…then hide-and-seek…" Rachel stroked her daughter's wavy hair, gently easing the tray off her lap and laying her down across the couch cushions as the exhausted child dropped off to sleep.

"I think this is the first time all week they've both taken a nap at the same time," Rachel sighed in relief, finally getting up from the couch and tucking the blanket snugly around her feverish child so she wouldn't get a chill. Then she arched her back and stretched her arms over her head with a soft sigh of release, and guided Beth by the shoulder back to the kitchen, sitting her down at a bar stool at the center island and putting a glass of Pellegrino and a plate of crackers and hummus in front of her.

"So, little miss runaway…wanna tell me why you're here?" Rachel raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Beth rolled her eyes.

"I'm not running away, I just needed to blow off some steam. My dads are being completely insane, and I got tired of banging my head against a wall. Is it cool if I chill here, just for a couple of days?"

"Of course, but we need to call your dads first. Trust me, they're more worried than angry if they don't know where you are. And I'll call Qu—your mom, and get her home from the studio early so you can tell us both what the deal is here."

"There is no deal," Beth huffed, rolling her eyes in such a purely adolescent way, that for a moment Rachel felt like she was back in high school, consoling Quinn over a fight with Santana. "I told you, I just needed to get out of Ohio for a few days."

"Well fine, then you can tell your mother that yourself, young lady." Beth raised an eyebrow, considering.

"I thought you were the cool one around here," she finally said, a note of teasing in her voice.

"Why, because I let you play dress-up with my old award show gowns when you were little?" Rachel smirked, slipping onto the stool next to the blonde teenager and nibbling on a cracker.

"_And_ make pretend acceptance speeches with your trophies," Beth shrugged, smiling reluctantly back.

"Yeah, well, it's easy to be the cool aunt from out of town, you know," Rachel sighed. "It's a lot harder to actually be in charge…and even though I don't know exactly what this fight is about, I _do_ know your dads would do just about anything for you if it came right down to it. So let's not torture them any more with visions of you dead in the gutter somewhere, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Beth sighed, taking her cell phone from Rachel's outstretched hand and dialing her home number in Ohio. "Hi, Papa…yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I'm at Quinn and Rachel's house."

…..

Quinn, meanwhile, nearly choked on her chai latte when her assistant gave her Rachel's message: _Beth __is__ here, __everything__'__s__ cool,__ but__ come __home__ ASAP_. She nearly took out her best camera and tripod in her scramble to get out of the studio, instructing her shocked staff to just save their work and take the rest of the day off. The cab ride home through midtown seemed to take forever, and Quinn was plagued with at least a dozen different visions of her oldest child in the kind of trouble that could send her running to New York without telling anyone.

Pregnancy, of course, was the first terror that entered her mind—Beth was sixteen now, after all, the same age Quinn was when she got pregnant with _her_. But that was far from the only teenage horror her brain offered up, and by the time she got through her front door, Quinn was braced for any number of terrifying scenes to present themselves. She was completely unprepared for the sight of Beth and Rachel calmly eating lunch at the kitchen island, laughing and listening to the radio.

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Quinn panted, dropping into a chair with her hand over her heart once she realized that there was no immediate danger.

"Hi Mom," Beth smiled sheepishly.

"Quinn, are you all right? You look like you're about to faint! I told you everything was fine, didn't I?" Rachel frowned, getting up to fill a glass with cold water for her shaking wife.

"Yeah, but you _also_ said to come home ASAP. And, I mean, not that I'm not happy to see you, Beth, but what the fuck are you _doing_ here?" Beth raised an eyebrow in obvious amusement.

"Okay, I guess you're the cool one now," the teenager grinned unabashedly.

"Don't you dare smile at me, you little delinquent," Quinn spluttered indignantly. "I thought something _awful_ had happened to you! Do your dads even know where you are? I swear to God, I will put you on a plane straight back to Ohio right this minute—"

"Honey, shh, calm down," Rachel sighed, getting up and rubbing Quinn's shoulders to calm her down. "Just take a deep breath and relax, okay? Bethy's all right. Everything is fine. She's just having a spazzy teenage moment, and aren't we glad she came to _us_ for help?" Quinn glanced up guiltily at her daughter's anxious face, and sighed.

"Yes…of course. Sorry I freaked out. But your dads _do_ know you're here, right?"

"They do now," Beth said guiltily. "Rachel made me call." Quinn glanced at Rachel, who raised an eyebrow as if to say, _see, __I__ can__ play__ the __heavy __too._

"Well…good. Because, I mean, even if you're pissed at them, your parents deserve to know where you are." Beth nodded awkwardly. Quinn rubbed her eyes and sighed. "And speaking of—how's the little bug doing?"

"Better. Sleeping. She was psyched to see her big sister, though. Charlie's zonked out too, dunno for how long. We might want to make the most of this time, before one of them wakes up screaming."

"Yeah, okay," Quinn agreed, settling back in her chair and taking a long gulp of water to compose herself. "So Beth, you came here to talk to us about _something_—so let's talk. What's this all about?" Though she tried to stay calm and optimistic, Quinn couldn't stop the flash of nightmare images that played on a loop in the back of her mind: pregnancy. Abortion. Drugs. Abusive boyfriend. AIDS. Dropping out of school…

"I want to go to college early," Beth blurted out. Rachel watched in amusement as Quinn and Beth stared at each other with the exact same look of skeptical incredulity. It was actually freakishly adorable.

"_What?__"_ Quinn exclaimed in utter bewilderment.

"Oh, come on, you know Ohio is a cesspool. Nothing interesting will ever happen there! I have to get out, and I'm sorry, but I can_not_ freaking wait another two years," Beth wailed, getting up and pacing around the kitchen in agitation. "So I applied to Simon's Rock, you've heard of them right? It's like an early college, they take students after 10th or 11th grade, and it's a _really_ good school! But I didn't exactly tell my dads I was applying, so when the acceptance letter came, it kind of freaked them out. Dad went completely mental and said I'm not mature enough to be on my own yet, and Papa said I'm throwing away the best years of my life for no reason. I'm mature enough to get to New York on my own though, right? You guys get my side, don't you?"

"Of course we do," Rachel said gently, squeezing Quinn's hand to rouse her from her temporary stupor. "But you still have to talk it out with your dads, sweetie."

"I know," Beth grumbled, throwing herself back down in a chair and picking absently at a hangnail. "I just wanted someone to be on my side."

"We'll always be on your side, honey," Quinn said softly, shaking her head with a little smile of relief.

"Yeah, I know," Beth smiled back grudgingly. "That's why I came here. Sorry if the timing's shitty."

"It's okay," Quinn chuckled, tears of relief springing unexpectedly to her eyes as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug. They all heard baby Charlotte wake up wailing then, and Rachel slipped quietly from the room to collect her before she woke Zoe, too.

"So," Quinn sighed when Beth finally pulled away, both of them wiping stray tears from their eyes now. "Why don't you tell me more about this school you want to go to, hmm?"


	19. Crash Into Me

Okay! So this snapshot just came out as a way to connect back to this week's ep and show that in the future, it's all okay. I mean, obviously all these snapshots show that in one way, because Quinn can walk in all of them! But this snapshot specifically references this week's ep as a scary thing that happened in the past, and is now all better. So, minor angst warning, but major fluff! Hope this will be as cathartic for you guys as it was for me :)

—WBB

…...

**Snapshots: Crash Into Me**

**April 2022**

…...

"Sing favowite things, Mommy!" Two-year-old Zoe was wriggling in her stroller as Quinn pushed her down the sidewalk, having just picked her up from playgroup for a late lunch with Brittany and Santana at a new BBQ joint in Chelsea. Quinn and Rachel had always kept a vegetarian and mostly vegan home, since they got their first college apartment together, as it was so important to the little starlet; but Quinn did enjoy sneaking some meat in when she was out at a restaurant. And she wasn't about to deprive her daughter of ever knowing the joy of barbecued brisket and cornbread.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens," Quinn sang out sweetly while her toddler kicked her feet and hummed along. "Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens..." They were halfway across the crosswalk at 8th ave and 23rd street when the shrill squeal of tires made the young mother turn her head, and freeze in her tracks.

A Volvo station wagon had just made an illegal, hard right turn against the red light at the corner onto 8th ave, and was barreling toward them on an angle that cut across all three lanes of traffic. Quinn's body was rigid, frozen; she was literally a dear in headlights. Her brain was screaming at her to move, to push Zoe's stroller out of the way, but her body wouldn't listen. _I know what happens now,_ her heart whispered, and as she closed her eyes and thought of Rachel, a tear slipped down her cheek. This was going to kill them both.

A fraction of a second later, there was another squealing of tires and a resounding crash. Quinn's eyes flew open, and she saw the car smashed into a telephone pole just feet to her left, having swerved away from her at the last second. That was when the adrenalin rush hit (much too late to be useful; thanks a lot, brain) and made her tremble violently as she staggered to the sidewalk, gasping.

"Zoe, baby, are you okay?" she choked, dropping to her knees in front of the stroller the second they were safely back on the sidewalk.

"Car go boom boom!" Zoe exclaimed, her hazel eyes wide with curiosity and excitement. "Bad car tried to hurted us."

"You're okay, aren't you baby? Aren't you?" Quinn whimpered, feeling her lungs constrict as her heart started pounding violently in her throat. She ran her hands over her baby's small body, not trusting her own eyes to tell her that her child was whole and unharmed.

"Q! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Santana was sprinting through the gathering crowd to reach them, terror to match Quinn's own blazing in her dark eyes as she ran to meet them, skidding down onto her knees on the sidewalk to throw her arms around her best friend. "Jesucristo, don't do this to me again..."

"We're okay. We're okay, San," Quinn panted feebly, collapsing into her best friend's strong arms as shock and terror and a barrage of traumatizing flashbacks all rushed through her consciousness. A moment later, Brittany had caught up with them, too, immediately going to Zoe and picking her up from her stroller, hugging and kissing the confused toddler as a crowd of gawking pedestrians closed in around them.

"Back off, vultures! Nothing to see here! Go bother the Spielberg film crew shooting down on 12th," Santana snarled at the rubberneckers, who thinned out considerably after getting shouted at by the fiery Latina.

"We saw car go boom, Auntie Santa," Zoe offered helpfully, still amused and pleased with all the attention.

"I know you did, mamí. You scared me and Auntie B real bad. We thought the car hit you." The toddler didn't understand the gravity of the situation, of course; she didn't realize how close they'd come to being splattered on the pavement, nor the depth of her mother's bad association with car accidents. But Brittany and Santana certainly did. "Q, are you okay? Are you breathing? Are you having a heart attack? Do you need to sit down for a minute?"

"I...I didn't...I couldn't..." Quinn stuttered, shaking her head as fat tears welled up in her eyes. Santana hugged her tightly again, rubbing her back and rocking her a little on the spot.

"C'mon chicas, let's go back to our place pronto. We'll call Thumbelina, and then I think we all need a good, stiff drink," Santana sighed, beaming now with relief that her friend and her beautiful daughter were unhurt.

"Chocowate milk!" Zoe crowed excitedly, and Brittany laughed and nuzzled the little girl's stomach, making her giggle and squeal with delight.

"Chocolate milk for the little duck, margaritas on the rocks for the big ducks," Brittany nodded, wrapping her free arm around Quinn's shoulders and kissing her on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're okay, Quinn. When we saw that crash...it made me remember a lot of bad stuff. I couldn't stand to see anything like that happen to you ever again. I'm just so glad you're safe."

"Me too, Britt," Quinn nodded weakly, smiling gratefully at her two best friends for the way they'd just swooped in when she was so utterly beside herself. "Thanks for being here, you guys. I love you."

"Wov you!" Zoe agreed happily, planting a sloppy kiss on Brittany's cheek, then reaching out for Santana, who scooped her up easily in one arm and linked the other through Quinn's.

"C'mon mijas, let's get a cab and get out of here before the po-po shows up and starts taking statements. I think that's one headache we can all do without."

The short trip back to Brittany and Santana's east village brownstone was a blur to Quinn; she realized dimly in the back of her mind that she was in shock, but she knew it was alright. Her friends were here to take care of her, and Zoe was safe, and if she fell apart they would put her back together. They called Rachel from the cab, but she didn't pick up her cell (unsurprising, as she was in rehearsal for the newest workshop she'd just signed onto with one of Broadway's top production teams), so Santana left a message and then sent a text, just to make sure she broke through Rachel's work-mode blinders and caught her attention. They'd been home about twenty minutes, and were working on their second round of margaritas while Zoe colored on the floor, when the doorbell rang five times in rapid succession.

"Three guesses who that is," Santana said wryly, as she went to answer it. A moment later, Rachel was bursting into the living room, scooping Zoe up in a blur of tears and rushing straight to Quinn's side to see for sure that she was unhurt.

"Oh my God Quinn, are you all right? When I got Santana's message..."

"I'm fine, Rach. _We're_ fine. I'm just kind of rattled, that's all." Quinn smiled weakly, leaning her forehead briefly against her wife's with a sigh of relief at the warm, familiar, and utterly reassuring contact.

"Well I should say so! As if you need to be reminded of _that,_" Rachel huffed indignantly, as if the car that almost hit her wife and child was guilty of not only reckless endangerment, but also lack of consideration. "Maybe we should make you an appointment with Dr. Torres so you can talk about it. I don't want you to feel like you have to keep it together if you start having flashbacks or something."

"Let's not make this into more than it is, okay baby?" Quinn sighed, with a little half-smile as she reached out and stroked Rachel's cheek. "I don't want to give it that kind of power. We're both fine, and I don't want to think about it any more right now. If I start to feel like I need help processing, I'll call Dr. Torres. But, really, Rach, I'm _fine_." To prove her point, Quinn leaned in and pressed a soft, tender kiss to her wife's warm lips.

"Zoe Kiss!" The toddler demanded, still too young to be grossed out by her parents kissing. Giggling, they both leaned in and kissed her on her chubby cheeks, and the little girl squealed happily.

"Want a margarita, Shortcake?" Santana asked from the bar, where she was shaking up a new batch.

"Oh _hell_ yes. I told Tom and Julia I had a family emergency and wouldn't be back today. There _are_ some advantages of being the biggest star in a small unknown workshop that no one even knows exists yet."

"Word. I'll drink to that," Santana grinned, shaking her head as she came back to the couch with a fresh drink for herself, and one for Rachel.

"Here's to my two beautiful girls...and the two best friends we could ever have. Thank you both, so much, for being there today when it counted," Rachel sighed, raising her glass with a soft, beaming smile.

"Anytime, mijas," Santana grinned back, clinking her glass with Rachel's.

"We love you guys too," Brittany added sweetly, clinking her glass and leaning her head on Quinn's shoulder. It was several hours before any of them left the couch; and even then, it was only to order a pizza. And when Quinn finally broke down and started to cry, as they all knew she would eventually, all three of them were there to hug and cuddle her and listen to her ramble about the split second when she was staring into the car's headlights, and all she could think about was that she couldn't handle going through physical therapy again. It was just too hard.

"Don't cry, Mommy. I help you," Zoe said sweetly, oblivious to everything except that her mommy was crying because something was too hard.

"I know you will, baby bug," Quinn sniffed, wiping her eyes on her sleeve and giving her angel baby a watery smile. "And when we help each other, we can do anything, right?"

"Yeah! Anything!" Zoe agreed, jumping up from her coloring and jumping into Quinn's lap. Rachel leaned in and kissed her cheek, wrapping her arms around both her hazel-eyed girls and holding them tight. And in that moment, all Quinn's terror vanished like smoke—because she knew it was true. With her family behind her, she could do anything.

"Let's have another drink, San," she grinned.


	20. Glee Reunion

Summer snapshots are back! I can't promise how often I'll update, but you know our girls can't stay out of trouble for long ;)

Enjoy, and happy summer!

—JW

…

**Snapshots: Reunion**

**June 2020**

…...

"Yo, shortcake, you need some help with that? The whole gang's gonna be here soon, and they'll probably prefer a picnic table they can actually set their plates down on." Santana popped her head out of the sliding doors that lead to the back deck, and smirked at a red-faced, sweaty Rachel, bent over a scattered mess of half-assembled patio furniture.

"If by 'help' you mean _actual_ help, and not a string of smart remarks, then yes," Rachel huffed, pushing her sweaty bangs back out of her face with a scowl.

"Hey, Britt and I offered to come earlier in the week to help you guys get the beach house ready for glee invasion, but you said you were cool," Santana reminded her testy friend, but she came out onto the deck anyway, grinning as she plucked the instructions from the shorter girl's hands.

"I know you did. I'm sorry," Rachel sighed, collapsing into a deck chair and wiping the back of her arm across her forehead. "We thought we could manage, but everything's going wrong, and this table was supposed to come already assembled, and we haven't even had time to go food shopping, _and _we've barely gotten any sleep this week because Zoe just started teething.

"Ah...I thought I sensed a disturbance in the force," Santana joked, smiling mildly as she rolled the table-top onto its back and began undoing everything Rachel had just done, so she could put it all back together the right way. "So I guess that explains why Q and the half-pint have both been on the verge of tears all day, huh?"

"Oh, fuck, Santana...I honestly think we're in danger of a complete family meltdown," Rachel sighed, putting her head in her hands and staring off absently into space, her face a mask of exhaustion. "I had no idea teething could be so disruptive...it's like our sweet little baby just got a complete personality transplant. She's fussy all the time, she cries for hours, she won't go to sleep...and none of our usual tricks are working. Orajel and Tylenol help a little, but we can't keep drugging her around the clock, you have to wait at least six hours between doses. Nursing is the only thing that seems to calm her now. Poor Quinn has barely slept in a week."

"So you're saying that taking care of Blaine and Kurt's dog when they were out of town _didn't _fully prepare you for the responsibilities of parenthood? Shocker," Santana snorted quietly, biting down on the half-grin that tugged at the corner of her mouth. Rachel just glowered.

"It wouldn't kill you to offer a modicum of sympathy, you know," the little starlet huffed, dropping her shoulders back against the chair and letting her entire body go limp.

"Britt does sympathy. I do heavy lifting," Santana replied, smoothly locking the last leg into place on the newly assembled picnic table and standing up to stretch her back. "I just need your help to flip it, and then we can add in the extra leaves, okay?"

"Thanks, San," Rachel smiled gratefully, rubbing her eyes as she got to her feet. "Sorry for being cranky. I just really wanted everything to be perfect before everyone gets here."

"Well if memory serves, perfection was never what brought out the best in our group, anyway," Santana shrugged, carefully flipping the table with Rachel's help, and setting it on its feet. "And besides, just having the whole original glee club back together after 10 years..._that's_ what's gonna be perfect. Not the number of resort-style amenities in your beach house. You know that, right squirt?"

"Yeah." Rachel smiled gratefully. "I know. Can you finish this without me? I'm gonna go check on Quinn and Zoe."

Upstairs, Rachel found her wife and their six-month old daughter curled up in the antique wooden rocking chair in the corner of Zoe's nursery, snuggling peacefully for once. Zoe appeared to have just finished nursing; she wasn't sleeping, but she wasn't fussing either, a rare sight in the Berry house for the last week or two. She was gurgling placidly, curled up in Quinn's arms, with the assistance of a wrap-around baby sling that kept little Zoe held securely to her mother's chest, even if Quinn was fast asleep. Like right now.

"Poor Mommy's all worn out, little bug," Rachel murmured to her baby, gently slipping her hands inside the sling and lifting Zoe into her arms.

"Gahhh," Zoe crowed happily, grabbing a fistful of Rachel's hair and trying to cram it into her mouth.

"Shh, baby, we don't wanna wake Mommy up," Rachel whispered, bouncing the baby in her arms as she glanced down at Quinn; but the blonde girl was already yawning and blinking her eyes open, beaming woozily up at the beautiful picture of her two favorite girls in the world, both of them smiling back down at her.

"Am I dreaming, or is everybody actually happy right now?" the blonde girl yawned, sleepily buttoning her shirt back up and slipping out of the baby sling.

"I'm sorry I woke you, angel. We were trying to be quiet, weren't we Zoe?" The baby gurgled as if in agreement, drooling all over Rachel's shoulder.

"It's okay, Rach, I'm glad you woke me. There's still so much to do before everybody gets here…I still need to go food shopping…"

"Fuck that, you need to take a nap before you pass out on your feet. Go lie down for a little while, hmm baby? Britt and Santana are helping me finish setting up the deck, and we can always order pizza tonight and do the food shopping tomorrow. I want you to be able to enjoy yourself when all our friends get here, not spend the whole evening stumbling around like a zombie."

"But that's not fair to you," Quinn shook her head, standing up and stretching her arms over her head with an enormous yawn. "You're just as exhausted as I am, and if I crash now I'm basically leaving it all to you. And what if Zoe starts fussing again? You can't juggle that on top of everything else you're trying to get done."

"If we need you, then I'll come wake you up, okay?" Rachel offered, stroking a sleep-mussed lock of blonde hair back from her wife's tired face, and leaning in to kiss her lightly on the lips, Zoe held gently between them. "Go get some sleep, angel. And don't worry about anything. I can handle little miss fussypants for a couple of hours."

"Okay, starlight," Quinn sighed, her hand resting on the baby's powder-soft head as she leaned in for one last kiss. "I love you a really lot."

"Love you too, angelcake." Rachel smiled approvingly at the sight of her exhausted girl stumbling down the hall to their bedroom, and hoped that by the time she woke up, she'd be refreshed enough to enjoy the house full of old friends that would greet her.

…..

Between the three of them, Rachel, Santana and Brittany managed to get the deck furniture assembled and covered with strings of decorative, multicolored tea lights before the glee gang arrived; and Brittany even ran out to get some snacks and drinks from the grocery store, so by the time their guests began to arrive in the early evening, the Berry beach house was in full-on party mode. Mike and Tina were the first to arrive, along with their two-year-old, Stevie, who was fascinated by six-month-old Zoe and kept trying to kiss her through the mesh wall of her playpen. Mercedes and her boyfriend arrived next, escorted by Kurt and Blaine, and before they'd even finished cooing over little Zoe and Stevie, Puck burst in shrieking like a metal god and playing his electric guitar, which would've been awesome if not for the fact that it terrified the babies, both of whom began to wail inconsolably.

"Boogey man come to get us!" Two-year-old Stevie shrieked hysterically, racing to his mother and attaching himself to her legs like a clamp.

"Shh, it's okay baby, that's not the boogey man," Tina laughed, picking up her terrified child and rubbing his back as he tried to hide his face in her hair. "It's just your Uncle Puck being silly. See, he's just playing his guitar." The little boy peeked cautiously out from the safety of his mother's arms, while everyone laughed at Puck's sheepish expression.

"Hey there, little dude, sorry if I scared you. It's just a guitar—see? You can play it too if you want." Smoothly, Puck slipped the guitar strap over his head and held the instrument out to the little boy, so he could pluck at the strings; and soon he was laughing as loudly as he'd been crying a moment before. Zoe, on the other hand, was still shrieking her little lungs out from inside her playpen, and Rachel rushed to console her before she got herself worked up again. She'd been so happy and content all afternoon, the little starlet had been hoping they'd get a full night of good behavior while all their houseguests were arriving.

"Sorry about that, Rach, hope I didn't freak her out too bad," Puck shrugged apologetically, glancing over at the little starlet as she hoisted her wailing baby into her arms, rocking her and cooing softly in an attempt to soothe her.

"It's all right, Noah, it's not your fault," Rachel sighed, smirking at her old friend in a what-will-we-ever-do-with-you sort of way. "She's too young to be scared of boogeymen just yet; I think it was the noise that upset her, and she's just been incredibly fussy since she started teething. Are you gonna cry all night, baby bug, or are you gonna show all our friends your beautiful smile, hmm?"

"Oh, teething…been there," Tina sighed, looking up at Mike, who smiled sympathetically.

"Yup, we know how you feel," Mike agreed, watching his son banging gleefully on Puck's guitar, his tears already forgotten. "Have you tried Orajel?"

"Yes, but it doesn't last all that long, and we can only give it to her once every four to six hours," Rachel sighed, bouncing the shrieking baby lightly in her arms. "I hate to do it, but I think I may need to go wake Quinn up to nurse her. It's been the only thing to calm her lately. Poor Quinnie's barely gotten one good night's worth of sleep in the last week put together."

"Don't wake her yet, I know a really good trick," Tina offered, making her friend's face light up with an enormous smile of gratitude. "Which way to your liquor cabinet?"

…..

By the time Quinn stumbled downstairs a little after 7pm, the house was in full-on party mode, holding all their dearest friends from the original Glee Club (minus Finn, who was still in the Army and on active duty overseas; but no one seemed too upset at his absence). Rachel had covered the entire inside of the house with decorative tea lights, their warm light flickering merrily as the glee gang sat around on comfortable sofas and recliners, munching on the wide assortment of party snacks Brittany and Rachel had laid out. When they saw Quinn coming down the stairs, shouts of greeting and excitement rose in the air as they all jumped up to hug her.

"Your house looks so beautiful! I can't believe we're all here," Mercedes gushed, enveloping the blonde girl in a tight bear hug.

"Me neither," Quinn agreed dazedly, beaming at all the familiar faces around the room, some of whom she hadn't seen in several years. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you all arrived; you must think I'm a terrible hostess."

"Nah, it's cool homegirl," Artie waved her off, his wheelchair parked beside the sofa at a comfortable range for reaching chips and dip on the coffee table. "Rachel told us the baby's been keeping you up all night. I'm impressed you guys are actually doing this whole reunion thing with a six-month-old in the house. From what I hear, they can be a real time-suck."

"It's nothing like that…Zoe's an angel," Quinn yawned, shaking her head. "She's just going through a rough time right now with the teething. Usually she's all smiles and giggles."

"She seems happy enough tonight," Mercedes smiled, nodding towards the back deck, where Quinn could see Rachel, Tina, Kurt and Brittany playing peekaboo with Zoe and Stevie, both of them laughing uproariously as only babies and toddlers can.

"Oh, thank you God," Quinn sighed in relief, trailing outside to greet her family and the rest of their houseguests. "Hey guys," she smiled, hugging an overexcited Tina before pulling up the nearest deck chair and collapsing beside Rachel and Zoe.

"Are you feeling better, sunshine? You still look exhausted," Rachel fussed, leaning in to give her blonde angel a quick kiss.

"Gee, thanks, that's just what I was hoping to hear," Quinn replied dryly, arching an eyebrow at her wife's sheepish expression.

"Ohhh, you know I didn't mean it that way," Rachel huffed, giving Quinn a sardonic smirk, finally drawing a playful smile from the blonde. "I just want you to be rested and refreshed so you can enjoy the party."

"Mm-hmm. I am," Quinn nodded, rubbing her eyes with a sleepy smile. "Believe me, that nap was the best sleep I've had all week. I'm totally ready to party. How about you, little bug? Are you having fun with your new friend?" Quinn tickled her daughter's tiny stomach, and Zoe squealed in delight, drooling and kicking happily in Rachel's lap.

"I think Stevie is the one who's captivated," Tina smiled, gesturing to her son's antics as he ran around shouting _peekaboo!_ and looking over his shoulder each time to see if Zoe was watching him. "If this was Medieval times, we'd probably be arranging their betrothal by now."

"You hush, don't give them any ideas," Rachel snorted, hugging her baby protectively against her stomach. "Our babies are not getting married, because that would mean they have to grow up and leave home. And Zoe's not doing that! She's going to stay tiny and adorable forever."

"Just make sure you're packed in time to catch that bus to Never Never Land, babycakes," Quinn giggled, leaning over and kissing her smirking wife, then their baby. "She does seem to be totally over her cranky teething mood. I'm so relieved! I was afraid I was gonna spend half the party locked in the nursery with her."

"Well we have Tina to thank for that—she showed me the most amaaaaazing trick to deal with teething," Rachel smiled gratefully at her friend. "I can't believe we never knew about it! A drop of whiskey on the gums, and she's been happy as a clam for over an hour."

"No problem, Rach. I'm happy to help a fellow sleep-deprived mommy," Tina winked; but when they both looked back at Quinn, she was staring at them in horror.

"You gave our baby booze?"

"It's just topical," Rachel shrugged, sensing Quinn's rapid shift in mood, but giving her a little smile anyway in wary confusion. "It's not like I put it in her bottle or anything. Tina said her pediatrician was the one to recommend it, so I figured it couldn't hurt to try. And, I mean, it totally worked—look how happy she is!"

"No shit, she's happy!" Quinn choked, her cheeks flushing bright red as she stood up and took the baby from Rachel's arms. "Why not just give her one of Puck's pot brownies? I'm sure _that_ would make her happy too!"

"Quinnie, calm down," Rachel murmured, standing anxiously and putting a hand out to soothe baby as she started to cry. "We have guests, and you're upsetting Zoe."

"Maybe you should've thought about that before you introduced our six-month-old to alcohol!" Quinn yelled, hugging her crying baby tightly to her chest.

"Quinn, I'm so sorry," Tina said meekly, her face flushing pink with embarrassment as she watched her two friends fight. "I never would've suggested it if I knew it would upset you like this. But I promise, it's completely safe—we did it with Stevie a million times when he was teething, and he's totally fine."

"It's not your fault Tina…I'm sure it's fine for Stevie," Quinn gulped, fighting back tears. "But my father and grandfather were both alcoholics. It's in my genes, it's in Zoe's genes…we have to be more c-careful…" Her voice broke as the tears she'd tried to hold back brimmed over and spilled down her cheeks; and Zoe, sensing her mother's distress, cried even harder.

"Honey, it's okay…one drop of whiskey isn't going to turn her into an alcoholic," Rachel murmured, reaching out a hand to rub her wife's shaking back; but the blonde girl flinched away from the gentle touch.

"I'm s-sorry, I j-just…" Quinn shook her head, and bolted back into the house, running past the rest of their friends and back up the stairs, holding her now shrieking baby protectively against her chest. Everyone in the living room turned as one to look at Rachel through the sliding glass doors on the deck, her brown eyes wide with anguish as she started after Quinn's retreating form.

"Dude," said Puck when Tina and Kurt brought a sniffling Rachel back into the house. "What'd you do?"

"Fuck you, Puckerman," Rachel snarled, wiping her eyes hastily on the back of her hand.

"Wow, this really is just like high school," Santana observed wryly. "Don't worry, shortcake, she'll forgive you once she calms down. That's what always happens."

"Rachel, I am so, so sorry," Tina squeaked, all the color draining from her face as she squeezed her friend's hand sympathetically. "Do you want me to go talk to her? This is all my fault, I ruined our reunion party…"

"It's not your fault, Tina…and you didn't ruin anything," Rachel sighed, smiling weakly as she rubbed her red eyes. "I should've known something like this would happen—she's been so overtired lately, I'm not surprised she had a meltdown. This was just the straw that broke the camel's back…and it's my fault, not yours. I'll go talk to her." Tina nodded and smiled sadly, while Kurt squeezed Rachel's shoulder sympathetically.

"Everyone, I'm so sorry you had to see that—I promise this isn't our normal family behavior."

"We know that, silly," Mercedes said gently, snuggled beside her boyfriend on the couch. "Go talk to her and make it all better, like you always do. We can hang without you for a little while."

"Thanks," Rachel smiled bleakly, and nervously made her way to the stairs. At least she couldn't hear the sound of Zoe crying anymore—that was a good sign.

When she found her wife and baby, they were back in the rocking chair in Zoe's room, the little one happily nursing away, her tantrum already forgotten. Quinn, on the other hand, still had silent tears streaming down her face as she rocked aimlessly back and forth. "Oh, honey…I'm sorry," Rachel murmured, closing the door behind her and shutting out the sounds of the party. "I swear, I will never give our daughter so much as a drop of alcohol ever again, okay? I should've anticipated that this would be a worry for you, after everything you went through with your dad. But I promise, we are not going to let anything like that _ever_ happen to Zoe."

"You can't promise that," Quinn whispered brokenly, shaking her head.

"I am promising that," Rachel swore stubbornly, kneeling at her wife's feet and putting both hands on her knees, reassuring both of them with the warm contact. "I know I can't promise that she won't have struggles with alcohol…and God willing, it'll be years before we're in a position to test that possibility…but if she does ever start to have those kinds of problems, we're going to notice, and we're going to do something about it. We're not going to be like your parents, or your grandparents, ignoring what's right in front of their faces because it's too embarrassing or too scary to deal with. Whatever our baby goes through in this world, she will _always_ have us behind her to help her and guide her. Do you believe that?"

"Yes," Quinn whispered, a broken smile finally appearing on her tearstained face.

"Good," Rachel smiled back, standing up to give her blonde angel a gentle kiss of reassurance. When she straightened up, she saw that Zoe had fallen asleep nursing, and was now curled peaceful and unconscious against Quinn's breast. "Looks like our baby bug has had enough excitement for one day, hmm?"

"She's not the only one," Quinn sighed, wiping her eyes as she stood up and gently lowered the sleeping baby into her crib. "I'm so sorry I flipped out on you, Rach…in front of all our friends…"

"Hey, we wanted to party like we were all still in high school…I think this really perfected the whole package," Rachel joked, wiping a few more tear streaks from Quinn's face while the blonde girl buttoned up her shirt again.

"I guess I can't argue with that," Quinn chuckled weakly. "God, I have to apologize to Tina…she must feel terrible…"

"Tina's not upset with you," Rachel shook her head, slipping her hands around Quinn's hips and pulling her close, until they were nuzzled against each other, kissing her deeply. "No one is upset with you, baby…we all just wanted to make things a little easier for you."

"Mmm…you're doing a good job right now," Quinn hummed playfully, digging one hand into Rachel's long hair and pulling her in for another long, unhurried kiss.

"Naughty girl, are you trying to take advantage of me in the midst of our own reunion party?" Rachel teased, giggling. "What will our guests think?"

"They'll think they really have gone back to high school…and when we get back downstairs, we'll distract them with pizza and ice cream." Quinn smirked and wiggled her eyebrows. Rachel giggled, quickly covering her mouth before her laughter could wake her sleeping baby.

"Okay, c'mon vixen. Time to get back to our party."


End file.
